


How Kirk gains his hounds

by brightclam



Category: Star Trek: Mirror Universe, Star Trek: The Original Series
Genre: F/M, M/M, Mentions of Slavery, Multi, No Smut, Nonbinary Character, Polyamory Negotiations, Torture, Trans Male Character, a really long really weird hurt comfort fic, end goal is everyone is happy and kirk has two new deadly bodyguards, flashbacks to the mirror universe but they arent too bad, how to avoid selfcest: a guide by pavel chekov and hikaru sulu, i find a fandom niche and crawl into it and then doom myself to writing megafics about it, im writing a vanilla and happy mirrorverse story and you cant stop me, mirror chekov is sneaky and manipulative, mirror chekov's abusive mother, mirror sulu is aggressive and reckless and chekov wishes he would shut up, non con mind melds, nonbinary mirror sulu, once again: no rape or sexual assault in this story and thus no mention of sex slaves, starfleet has no idea how he managed to get exact copies of two of his crew, that shit nasty and i dont wanna think about it, the conspiracy theories are flying, the enterprise accidentally adopts mirror chekov and mirror sulu, the mirror universe is shitty but no explicit rape or sexual assault in this story, trans mirror chekov
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-01-25
Updated: 2018-03-02
Packaged: 2018-09-19 18:58:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 20
Words: 27,676
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9456215
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/brightclam/pseuds/brightclam
Summary: They don't know how it happens, but when they leave the mirror world, they bring sulu and chekov with them.( aka, the enterprise's guide to taming mirror universe doppelgangers )





	1. what do I do with this?

**Author's Note:**

> For the first couple chapters, mirror chekov and mirror sulu will just be called chekov and sulu. 
> 
> This is going to be a long and difficult ride but i'm enjoying writing it.

They don't know how it happens, but when they leave the mirror world, they bring sulu and chekov with them.

 

\-------------------------------------------------------

 

As Kirk appears on the transporter pad, he turns to make sure everyone made it. His eyes skim over uhura, McCoy, scotty...he jolts when he sees the two slumped forms collapsed next his chief engineer. He hopes that they're unconscious, but the universe decides their day hasn't been shitty enough already and chekov’s eyes are open.

 

Kirk’s fumbling for the phaser at his belt as soon as he notices, but stops when he realizes chekov hasn't moved. Looking closer, he can see his entire frame is shaking. He looks sick, and Kirk abruptly remembers that last time he saw chekov, he was in the agony booth. Chekov stays still, except for the trembling, though his eyes are tracking kirk’s every move.

 

Confident enough that chekov isn't going to hurt anyone for now, Kirk turns to the larger problem: sulu. McCoy, seeing Kirk turn towards the scarred man, offers what little he knows: “he was unconscious when I left him, spock knocked him out…”. Out of the corner of his eye, kirk sees their spock, behind the teleporter console, raise an inquisitive eyebrow. 

 

However, kirk’s reply is cut off when sulu’s eyes snap open. Fortunately, sulu is still groggy, and Kirk is ready for him when he charges. His shout echoed around the small room as kirk punches him in the face. A phaser shot, on stun, burns past Kirk and hits sulu. He collapses with a thud, and Kirk sees chekov flinch. With sulu controlled for the moment, he approaches chekov. The man looks up, eyes wide with fear.He manages to gasp out an appeal: “Keptin...please”. 

 

\----------------------------------------------------

 

Chekov is not a coward, but he is a survivor. He knows he’s young, and smart, and skilled, and  _ useful. _ He also knows that Captain Kirk is partial to begging.

 

\----------------------------------------------------

 

Kirk notes that chekov is still shaking, and makes a decision. “Bones.” McCoy steps up to his side and looks at chekov’s crumpled form. “Take him to medbay.” Kirk orders. To his surprise, chekov looks more fearful than before, and as McCoy moves forward, he scrambles backwards. McCoy stops with an irritated snort. Chekov flattens himself against the wall behind him. His cringing is stopped by another stun blast from uhura’s phaser.

 

Kirk turns to her disapprovingly. “ He was not going to go peacefully, captain, and I get the feeling that his next move would have been violence.” Kirk sighs, but concedes the point. He points to the security guards who just entered the transporter room and orders them to take sulu to the brig. The guards look disturbed by the familiar yet unfamiliar face as they grab sulu, but obey without hesitation.

 

Mccoy moves to the intercom and calls sickbay, chapel’s calm tones responding as he lists off supplies he needs. Mister Spock waits patiently just off the transporter pad, hands linked behind his back. As Kirk walks down the steps, he tilts his head and greets him: “Captain”. 

 

Kirk feels his face split into a smile and he claps a hand down on Spock's shoulder. “Glad to see mister Spock.” Scotty, passing by, calls: “and without that hideous goatee of yours!” Spock's eyebrow tilts again and is quickly followed by the familiar “fascinating”. Uhura giggles and follows Scotty out of the transporter room.

 

Kirk takes a moment to enjoy the giddiness that always follows a near death situation, but quickly snaps back into captain mode. 

 

“What happened while we were away, Spock?” 

 

“when the we attempted teleport you up, the attempt seemed successful, at first. However, ...differences soon became clear.” 

 

spock hesitates, and kirk feels a headache forming. 

 

“What happened, spock?” he groans.

 

“As you seemed off when you returned, I attempted to figure out was causing your irritation. When I called him jim, he reacted violently. Such a reaction was unusual, so I restrained him and ordered the other members of the landing party moved to the brig. The other-captain was distraught as I brought him to the brig, and seemed to believe I was staging a coup and taking the enterprise. He attempted to barter with me, offering money and power. His reaction was strange enough that we were dealing with an alternate universe.” 

 

Kirk sighs and tries to unclench his jaw. “Well i'm glad he didn’t do any serious damage, spock”.

 

His first officer nods and then looks past him to mccoy checking chekov’s pulse. 

 

“I see that the landing party is unharmed. May I ask why the alternates accompanied you back?”

 

kirk shrugs. “I don't know. We only set the transporter for us, and they weren’t even in the room when we left. Do you have the sensor data from our time in the alternate universe?”

 

“yes, but it is mostly useless. The ion storm left our sensors scrambled.” 

 

“well, try to get something out of it. I want to send those two back as soon as possible.” 

 

Spock nods and heads for the doors. Nurse chapel brushes past him as he leaves, pushing a gurney. A pair of blue shirted nurses trail after and begin lifting chekov onto the gurney. Mccoy gives nurse chapel instructions and the caravan leaves the transporter room. 

 

Mccoy walks over to kirk and mutters “it looks like he’s in shock. I can’t find any wounds that would cause it, though.” 

 

Kirk swallows nervously, knowing mccoy is going to be upset when he learns the cause. “I know what caused it. They had something called an agony booth, which they used for punishment. I don't know how, but it caused pain without apparent physical damage. I have no idea how it worked, either. There was just a lot of flashing lights and a lot of screaming.” 

 

McCoy mumbles something under his breath and shakes his head. “Well, I'll do my best.” 

 

As he begins to leave, Kirk yells after him: “don't forget to restrain him!” 

 

McCoy snarks back: “what do you think I am, a bumbling idiot?”. 

  
The transporter room’s door slides shut with a snap, emphasizing McCoy’s snarl.


	2. I think this room needs some more blood, it's kinda drab

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chekov wakes up and is very confused. We get a couple glimpses of his past.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Remember, mirror Chekov and mirror Sulu think they are still in their universe.
> 
> For now, mirror chekov and mirror sulu will still be called chekov and sulu. Italics are thoughts or flashbacks. In their heads, the mirror characters refer to themselves and each other as Pavel and Hikaru.
> 
> tw for this chapter: mentioned abuse, some blood and description of wounds

\-------------------------------------------------------

 

Chekov blinks awake to the sound of a medical monitor beeping steadily along with his heartbeat. A moment later, he remembers why that noise is  _ really fucking bad news  _ and tries to sit up. All he ends up doing is jerking his arms painfully against the cloth restraints tying him down.  _ Seriously, pavel? That was an incredibly stupid move. McCoy is one of the cleverest men in the empire, he would never leave a victim unrestrained, even he didn't expect you to wake up for at least ten more minutes. _ Chekov had become somewhat resistant to stun blasts: he recovered much more quickly than he should.

 

\-------------------------------------------------

 

_ They wouldn't let his mother have a real weapon. She had been useful, once, before she had become uncontrollable. Now, they didn't want her killing anymore of their people. There were no knives in the house, and her phaser couldn't go any higher than a stun setting. She ranted and raved about the restriction, threw a glass across the room.Pavel, with the barrel digging into his shoulder, stayed quiet and still. He’s learned that a stun setting isn’t harmless at point blank range. _

 

_ \----------------------------------------------- _

 

Fortunately, Chekov’s foolish attempt to sit up hadn't alerted the doctor to his presence. No one came through the door, and he couldn't hear anyone moving outside. There was a low hum, probably some sort of medical equipment, but no noise that heralded the approach of people. Chekov tested the bonds, trying pull his arms and legs off the table. 

 

He’s surprised to find that the restraints are soft against his skin; they're padded on the inside.  _ Maybe so I don’t hurt myself before he can get to me? Figures, a sadist and control freak like him wouldn't want anyone but him hurting his victims. _ There's no give in the restraints and Chekov isn't strong enough to break them. He shifts tactics, trying pull his hands through the loop of the restraint, hoping it’s loose enough to work. It doesn't. With a sigh, he stops struggling and goes still. He didn't really expect to be able to escape.

 

He stares at the white walls and waits.  _ It seems strange that the walls are so clean…  _ and they are. Perfectly blank, no scratches, dirt, or even blood spatters. _ For some reason I thought there would be blood spatters. I've seen mccoy work and he's not clean. He likes to show off as well, so why would he clean the walls? Maybe he just doesn't like a dirty workspace.  _ Chekov had never seen sickbay before. He isn't dumb enough to visit on his own, and had never messed up enough to be sent in as punishment before.  _ I guess that's one thing I should thank mom for, I always knew how to take care of my own wounds. Unlike some other idiots. _

 

_ \-------------------------------------------------------- _

 

_ Chekov was returning to his room when the man stumbled down the hall. He’s the new helmsman, who had the room next to Chekov. He was also bleeding profusely from a large wound that curls from his forehead past his eye, down the side of his face. He has one hand pressed to the gash and is fumbling with the passcode on his door with the other. As he struggles with the buttons and curses, pavel considers. The wound is deep, with a white flash of bone at the deepest part; It's likely to get infected. And head wounds, especially that close to the eye, are nasty: they bleed a lot. Chekov only knows how to deal with them from experience.  _

 

_ He could help, but should he? The helmsman is sharp; he's knows not to go to sickbay, even though he's only been on board for a couple days. But it's obvious that he doesn't know shit about first aid, which any useful person should know. But there's something about him that forces Chekov into movement. Maybe it’s the skill with which he flies the enterprise, maybe it's the predatory way he moves, maybe it's because he's got such a pretty face. Whatever the reason, Chekov slips into his room before the doors shut. The helmsman spins around, blood spattering the wall with the sudden movement. Pavel cants his hips to the side, crosses his arms and grins. “It looks like you need some help”.  _

 

_ \------------------------------------------------------- _

 

Chekov is pulled out of the memory by a surge of worry.  _ Where is Hikaru? He was in the room with me earlier...when he attacked Captain Kirk.  _ Chekov looks around again, checking that sulu isn't on any of the beds around him. Just like last time he checked, he's alone.  _ That could be good or bad. Maybe the captain is only going to give him the booth. Or, he could already be dead. _

 

The sound of movement in the adjoining room cuts off his morbid line of thought. He heard the doctor mutter something, then footsteps approaching the doorway. 

  
_ My extra ten minutes are up. _


	3. I bet you didn't see this coming

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Scientific bullshit is here to save the day. And, *gasp* the doppelgangers can't be returned! Totally surprising, right guys?

“Any luck mister spock?” 

 

Spock pulls away from the blue light of his sensor station. Kirk is standing to his right with that hopeful look that says  _ I think your the greatest science office ever and I know you’re so smart you'll have the answer to our problem right now!!!  _ Usually spock is able to live up to the expectations of that look; however, when he doesn't, it feels somewhat like kicking one of the offspring of the domesticated animals humans call dogs. Unfortunately, today he is going to have to kick the metaphorical “puppy” multiple times. 

 

“We have managed to work around the blank spots in the sensor data left by the ion storm. By piecing the data together, we have found a way to send the alternates back to their universe.” 

 

Kirk’s face lights up, but before he can open his mouth, Chekov interrupts: 

 

“but the materials we would need are extremely rare keptin! Nigh impossible to find!” 

 

Spock cuts off the ensigns excited explanation and delivers the bad news. 

 

“ Even if we had the materials, captain, we would not be able to return them.” 

 

Kirks frowns, his forehead creasing with the movement. 

 

“Why not, spock?” 

 

“ When the first exchange happened, there was no apparent change other than the switching of personnel. However, when you returned, a large amount of potentially destructive energy was released. Most likely a negative response to the breaching of universes. We survived the first wave without much damage. However, to open the rift again could do untold damage not only to the enterprise, but also to the rest of our universe. It could possibly even destroy the balance between our universe and the mirror universe and eliminate them both. With such unknown amounts of potential damage, we cannot justify returning the alternates.” 

 

Captain Kirk has paled considerably, and ensign Chekov has drooped in his chair, his previous joy at studying an unknown phenomenon removed by the danger of the situation. 

 

Kirk sighs and turns to look out over the bridge.

  
“Alright, we can't return them. We're too deep in space right now to go to a penal colony, so I guess we'll just have to keep them imprisoned until we can drop them off somewhere. I'm not excited about having to explain to starfleet why I'm having two of my officers incarcerated though.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know this was boring but it needed to be said and it didn't fit with any of the other chapters. Next chapter will have a lot more action!


	4. The confusion continues

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sulu wakes up, Chekov meets Mccoy, and we learn more about the mirror universe.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is mostly flashbacks to the mirror universe, and as such is pretty violent.   
> tw for gore and torture.

 

Sulu wakes up slowly. He’s lying on a hard floor, and there's the slight whine that he recognizes as a security field. He looks up, and sure enough, he's in the brig. The force field isn't visible at the moment, but there's the tell tale distortion that heralds its presence. 

 

Through the patch of distortion, he can see a security guard standing watch outside of his cell. 

 

He rolls over onto his side. 

 

The guard doesn't react.

 

He stands up. 

 

The guard doesn't react. 

 

Normally, sulu would attempt to bargain or threaten his way out, but his last memory is attacking Kirk. He knows that no one will help him now; any bargaining power he had he lost when he became a traitor. Even the faction of followers he had been gathering won't choose him over Kirk, not when his defeat is so obvious. 

 

Now all sulu has to look forward to is pain and possibly death. _ I wonder if I made him angry enough to kill me. I didn't seriously injure him, so usually he’d just booth me. But I did attack him in front of people, which is not a mark in my favor. _

_ \------------------------------------------------------- _

_ It wasn't a well thought out plan. The assassin chose to attack Kirk while he was eating. Probably because it was unexpected, and because she was arrogant. If she could kill Kirk in front of so many people, she would be feared by most of the crew.  _

 

_ Kirk was sitting in his usual spot, flanked by spock and mccoy. His blueshirted companions were arguing, as they did constantly, and the argument quickly escalated into a physical fight. The cafeteria was watching the tussle like usual.  _

_ It astonished sulu every time that mccoy wasn't dead in seconds. His viciousness and the arsenal of nasty potions he carried let him hold his hold his own, but everyone knew how the fight would end. It's only through Spock's goodwill that mccoy isn't a bloody paste on the deck.  _

 

_ The fight is drawing towards its inevitable conclusion -the sharp crack of one of mccoy’s bones, the accompanying scream (sulu never could figure out if it was from pain or from pleasure, or maybe both) and spock smirkingly escorting him to his sickbay- when the assassin pulls a phaser on Kirk.  _

 

_ The arrogant woman presses the gun to the back of Kirk’s head and pauses to gloat for a fatal second: Spock's frightening focus has snapped instantly to the attacker. The woman is convulsing on the deck from the first officers telepathic attack before she can pull the trigger.  _

 

_ Spock leaves her alive: he knows how his doctor enjoys torturing. But before Mccoy can call dibs on the assassin, Kirk has grabbed the phaser and shot the woman’s foot off.  _

 

_ The cafeteria watches in horrified silence as Kirk methodically shoots the woman to pieces, and with such precision that she's not dead until the final shot to her head. It's an uncharacteristic reaction from Kirk; usually the captain views assassination attempts with amusement.  _

 

_ \------------------------------------------------------ _

 

_ The pattern doesn't become clear until the second time Kirk murders an assassin in a fit of rage. _

 

_ \------------------------------------------------------- _

_ This time the plan is better thought out. They're on an empire controlled pleasure planet, in a bar. One of the crewmen, appearing tipsy, ( and turned on by the exotic dancers the bar employs) starts coming onto Kirk. Never one to turn down an affair, the captain responds enthusiastically.  _

 

_ The assassin pulls away for a moment and applies a fresh coat of lipstick, then returns to the lip lock. The captain pulls away suddenly, wiping at his lips in disgust.  _

 

_ The new layer of lipstick had been laced with a rare poison. It was well planned and well executed, but the assassin of was unfortunate enough to have used one of McCoy’s favorite poisons. Kirk had been exposed to the poison often enough that he not only recognized the taste, but also had built up immunity to it.  _

 

_ The captain pulls a steak knife off the table and cuts the assasin’s lips off of his face.The dancers get the rest off the night off while Kirk entertains his crew by skinning the assassin. _

 

_ \-------------------------------------------------------- _

 

_ It only takes Pasha a couple days to come up with a plausible theory. Kirk kills assassins directly when the assassination attempt is around uninvolved people.  _

 

_ “It's probably to keep his reputation” remarks the navigator with a shrug.  _

 

_ “when no one sees the attempt, he can laugh at their failure and then punish them however he wants without looking weak. But when people see the attempt happen, he makes an example of them. Something to keep in mind if we try to take over.”  _

 

_ Sulu replies with a smirk:  _

 

_ “when, not if, darling”. _

_ \-------------------------------------------------------- _

 

Sulu frowns as he remembers Chekov. Ever since he woke up he’s know he's dead.  _ But what about Chekov? He was in the transporter room when Sulu attacked Kirk. Did the captain let him go? Imprison him as an accomplice? Has he already been killed and that’s why Sulu isn't dead yet? _

 

His thoughts are starting to get out of control, so he slams his palm into the wall. A second time. Over and over again. The pain helps him focus , but it also draws the attention of the guard. 

 

He turns back, looks at Sulu through the field for a moment , and steps over to the intercom. 

 

He toggles the speaker and leans in. “Brig to bridge.” 

 

“Captain Kirk here.” 

 

“The prisoner has woken up, captain.”

 

“Very good. I'll be down in a minute.” 

 

Sulu’s brain fills with screeching alarms, overwritten by one thought:  _ oh fuck. _

 

_ \------------------------------------------------------ _

 

The doctor saunters into the room, heading towards the bed. Chekov shuts his eyes and presses himself in the bed, trying to make himself as small as possible. Any logical thoughts—plans for escape, hope for survival, strategies to appease mccoy— disappear beneath a primal rush of fear. The doctor is a malevolent force Chekov can feel approaching even though he can't see him. 

 

_ Please go away go away I'm not here I'm not here I'm not here.  _

 

Like a mouse pinned by a cat's paw, the only thing Chekov is capable of now is desperately wishing the predator would go away. 

 

The footsteps stop, right next the bed. The doctors misleadingly soft drawl starts up, hard to understand when Chekov’s so afraid. 

 

“Your nerves were temporarily overloaded by that booth, and you went into shock. A couple days of rest and you'll be back to your lively self.”

 

_ He has to be messing with me. _

 

“I'll sent a nurse in with your lunch in. Don't strain yourself while I'm gone.”

 

_ Please just start hurting me already. Why play these mind games? Why make me wait? Just get it over with! _

  
The room falls silent again as mccoy’s footsteps fade.


	5. Sulu vs force field; we all know who wins

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sulu meets nice!Kirk and they get along like a house on fire. Chekov gets visited by nurse Chapel.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There's some injury in here but not much violence. tw for description of burns

Sulu’s stream of mental cursing is interrupted by the distant swoosh of a turbo lift opening. Footsteps get louder; enough for more than one person.  _ Probably three, no more than five.  _

_ What do I do. Do something...do something! _

 

Fear for Chekov, the agony of waiting, the knowledge of his oncoming death, his quick temper, and his anger at being defeated all melded together and forced him into action.

 

Even before the captain comes around the corner, Sulu throws himself at the containment field. With the first hit, the field only bounces him back into the cell. The guard, startled by the sudden movement, stumbles backwards. 

 

As Kirk comes around the corner, almost running the guard over, Sulu lunges again. This time, the field gives him a mild shock. 

 

“What the hell?” exclaims Kirk as Sulu collapses back, his muscles twitching. 

 

Before Kirk can ask the security guard what's happening, Sulu leaps at him again. The third time he collides with the field, it responds with a painful shock. The smell of burnt fabric drifts into the hallway, though his skin seems unaffected for now. 

 

He's twitching on the floor, not quite recovered yet, when Kirk steps forwards. 

 

“Sulu, stop! You're going to hurt yourself!” 

 

Sulu glares up at the captain and slurs out a retort. 

 

“Kirk, you bastard! As if you give a shit! Why don't you drop the act and kill me already?” 

 

Nodding towards spock, he adds: 

 

“or have your pet Vulcan there pulverize me!” 

 

Kirk’s jaw has dropped, and he stares uncomprehendingly. Even Spock is speechless. 

 

Sulu notices their inaction and does what he's best at: taking advantage of opportunities. He changes from a hunched, defensive posture to a predatory lean, almost touching the field but not quite. He snarls through a face splitting smirk: 

 

“or are you too afraid? Have you gotten  _ weak _ , Kirk?” 

 

Kirk finally gets his jaw working again and manages to mumble: 

 

“I don't know what you're talking about.” 

 

Sulu snarls and slams his hand against the field. This time, the smell of burning flesh drifts over the confused group. 

 

Captain Kirk winces when the smell hits him and steps forward, hands held out pleadingly. A flash of fear breaks through Sulu's gloating mask, and he steps away from the field, back into the cell. Bright red burns, already blistering, are clear on his left palm.

 

“Fine.” His eyes dart from Kirk, back to Spock. He’s wide eyed and restless, like a spooked horse. “We can change the subject.” 

 

He gives a wobbly grin that would be charming if he wasn't so tense. 

 

“Where’s Chekov?” 

 

Kirk is relieved by a question he can answer, and rushes to respond. “You don't need to worry about him, I had him taken to sickbay.” 

 

Kirk smiles, waits for the news to relax the alternate trapped in his brig. 

 

Instead of relaxing, Sulu lets out an animalistic shriek, louder and angrier than any other noise he's made. Kirk yelps and steps back, running into Spock's thin frame, who lends a supporting arm. Sulu is smashing himself into the field, harder and more frantically than before, fingers clawing at the invisible shield even as it burns him.

 

The shrieking is constant, almost unintelligible, though Kirk’s pretty sure he can hear a multitude of death threats. 

 

“Spock, he's going to mutilate himself!” 

 

Even though the man is dangerous and violent, Kirk can't stand to watch him do such harm to himself. 

 

Spock steps forward and calmly turns off the force field. Sulu lunges, fingers reaching to claw at Spock's eyes. With a quick, elegant movement, Spock knocks his arms to the side and easily reaches his shoulder. A moment later, the screeching man sinks to the floor as spock uses his nerve pinch. 

 

Kirk steps in, next to Spock, and leans down to look at the man’s hands. He winces; the skin in badly burnt. “We need to get him up to sickbay so Mccoy can treat these.”

 

\--------------------------------------------------------

 

Nurse chapel’s voice is soft, and her hands are gentle as she undoes the straps on chekov’s arms.

 

_ He's seen her cut out a man’s eyes for looking at her.  _

 

_ Don't make eye contact. Don't look at her, she’s waiting for an excuse to hurt you, that's why she's being kind, to lull you into a false sense of security. _

 

“Alright. I’ve freed your arms so you can eat. Just don't stab anyone, okay?”

 

There's silence as she waits for an answer.

 

Chekov opens his eyes, careful to look down, not at her. 

 

“Yes ma'am.”

 

She laughs, a high, ringing twitter, like dilithium crystals colliding. It's a surprisingly pleasant sound. She reached over and plops a tray of food in his lap. She walks a few steps away and settles into a chair, pulling a pad into her lap. 

 

“If you need any seconds, just let me know.”

 

Chekov stares at the surprisingly appetizing looking food.  _ I wonder what kind of drugs they've put in this. _ His eyes skate over to where Chapel is sitting. 

 

_I don't think I have a choice about eating it, though._ _Well, here goes nothing._

 

He begins shoveling the replicator cubes into his mouth. Chapel shifts, and makes a soft noise of approval. 

 

Once he’s finished with the cubes, he moves on to the next bowl. To his surprise, it contains peaches.  _ That's awfully nice food to give to a prisoner. Maybe it's their version of a convict’s last meal? _ Whatever the reason for the peaches’s presence, they taste wonderful.

 

He finishes the fruit and puts the tray back on the table next to him. He closes his eyes and waits for the drugs to hit him. He hears Chapel pick up the tray. 

 

“Do you want any more?” 

 

He closes his eyes tighter and shakes his head no. 

 

She redoes the straps, and he can't work up the energy to be angry about the restraints. He hears her leave, and she doesn't come back. 

 

He's alone and the room is quiet and calm. 

 

He waits half an hour for a drug, any drug, to kick in. He stares at the clock, waiting for the room to blur, but it doesn't. 

  
He's pleasantly full and so confused.


	6. Chekov overthinks things

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chekov is awake and still desperately searching for why he's still alive and unharmed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There are mentions of slavery in this chapter (no discussion of sex slavery). The mirror universe is not a nice place, and Chekov's understanding of the world is shaped by the mirror universe's methods.  
> No one is actually being enslaved, don't worry!

“What should we do with other-sulu?” Kirk asks spock. 

 

They're watching mccoy treat him in his surgery room. 

 

“I don't think we should put him in with other-Chekov;  we don't know if they're friends or enemies. If they are friends, they might start plotting together.” 

 

Spock's nods and adds his own suggestion: 

 

“Perhaps you should ask the alternate Chekov some questions, try to learn more about how they will react if put together, and how they will react to the situation overall.” 

 

Their planning is interrupted by the doors behind them opening. 

 

Their Sulu walks through the doorway, a bright smile on his face. 

 

“Hello, captain! I hope it's alright that I came by. I just wanted to see my alternate, and since he’s knocked out right now, I figured it was pretty safe.” 

 

Kirk sighs. “Alright, you can take a look, but no more unannounced visits, okay? He's freaked out enough without dealing with the stress of having his clone around.”

 

Sulu steps forward excitedly and then freezes when he sees the prone form Mccoy is working on. 

 

“Woah. . . He looks exactly like me! Except for the scar, of course. It's a good thing he has that scar, or you wouldn’t be able to tell us apart!”

 

Doctor Mccoy finishes bandaging other-sulu’s fingers and turns to the captain. 

 

“Well, I've done all I can, Jim. Now where do you want me to put him?” 

 

“Leave him in there for now, I'm going to ask other-Chekov some questions, see if we can put them in the same room together.”

 

\----------------------------------------

 

Chekov is becoming less and less bewildered as time goes on. Chapel had stayed at his bedside, just working quietly. Eventually, she started talking. Chattering nonsense, related to her work or the people in her life. 

 

He doesn't answer, but she doesn't seem to expect any answers anyways. 

 

_ I think sickbay might have just adopted me as a pet.  _

 

It didn’t happen very often, as most of the empire was too focused on conquering to keep their enemies alive, but sometimes if they were needed, defeated enemies would be kept alive and used. 

 

_ Mr. spock had a pet at one point, I think? Some mechanical species that he used for calculations...until he got tired of it and disposed of it. I don’t understand why sickbay would need a pet, let alone me specifically. _

 

As chapel’s chatter continued, he wondered:  _ did they get a pet because she’s bored? _

 

His thoughts are cut off when captain Kirk steps through the door. Chekov is instantly tense, and Chapel picks up on it. She turns around to see the captain, and greets him with a smile. The captain smiles back.

 

_ (Chekov has never seen him smile before. He smirks, but that isn't the same. His smile softens his face; rounds out his cheeks. It brings attention to the fact that he is attractive, but it also makes him look kind. Perhaps that is why he never smiles; when he does, he looks gentle.) _

 

Captain kirk whispers something in Chapel’s ear. She gets up without a fuss and leaves the room. 

 

The captain takes her chair and turns to look at Chekov. Just as the navigator knows not to look Chapel in the eye, he also knows that looking away from kirk is dangerous. So, he looks Kirk in the eye and tries not to look terrified.

 

The captain gets straight to business. 

 

“Tell me about Sulu.” 

 

Chekov’s breath catches; fear and confusion warring inside of him. 

 

_He already knows of Sulu, why would he ask me about him?_ _I can’t even figure out why i’m still alive--wait. Maybe he’s thinking about making Sulu a pet like me?_

 

Hopes surges through Chekov, and he knows what he needs to do. 

 

_ Make him sound useful. Maybe I can save his life, at least for now.  _

 

“He’s the best pilot i’ve ever known, sir. He can fly anything you set him upon, including romulan and klingon ships. He has learned enough of their languages to understand their control boards as well, so he can not only fly their ships but could potentially keep one running in proper form. 

 

He would make an excellent bodyguard; he is a master with swords, and proficient with any other hand to hand weapon, especially bladed ones. He’s fast and strong, despite being smaller than average. He is also proficient in unarmed combat.

 

His useful hobby is studying flora and fauna. He knows most alien plants, and can  which are dangerous and which are useful. He has an unusual rapport with beasts, and enjoys taming them. If you are being hunted by an alien creature, sir, he would be quite the benefit.” 

 

Kirk is watching him with an expression that Chekov recognizes: he doesn't quite understand what’s happening, but he’s already figuring out how to turn it his advantage.

 

The captain processes for a moment, and then asks another question. 

 

“What is your relationship with Mr. Sulu?” 

 

Chekov freezes.  _ If I tell him the truth, he will use Sulu against me.  _

 

Chekov opens his mouth to lie, but stops suddenly.  _ But he wouldn’t be asking if he didn’t already know the answer. He’s testing me, waiting to see how I react. I need to tell the truth or he’ll punish me. _

 

“He is my consort, sir.” 

 

The captain’s eyes widen for a moment, but he recovers quickly. 

 

“Thank you for talking with me, Chekov.”

 

He stands up, and turns to leave the room. When the door slides open to let him out, Chekov can see Spock and Mccoy waiting for him.

 

\------------------------------------

 

“How'd it go, Jim?” 

Asks mccoy as soon as the door slides shut. 

  
“Well...I got a lot of information. Most of it wasn't relevant, but I do think we can put them in together. As long as we make sure there's no way for them to escape.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mirror Chekov is very smart but very out of his depth.


	7. Unfortunately, a romantic reunion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chekov and Sulu are reunited. It doesn't go as well as you would think.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the last of what I had written out already so updates are going to less frequent from now on, but i'll do my best to post at least once a week. Thank you for reading this far!

Chekov startles when the door slides open. The first thing he sees is Mccoy, which does nothing to calm him down. However, Mccoy doesn't even look at him; he steps through and begins to pull a stretcher through the doorway. Chekov watches with wary interest. He doesn't see the prone person’s face until Mccoy and Chapel lift him onto a bed two beds away from his. 

 

_ Hikaru. He's here. _

 

Mccoy finishes strapping Sulu in and sees Chekov staring. Chekov quickly tears his eyes away, but the doctor has already noticed. Mccoy steps up to Chekov's bed and orders him: “ I don't want you two plotting in here, understand? I'll seperate you again if I need to.”

 

The two blue shirts leave without any other words or actions. Chekov sits for an agonizingly long time in silence, trying to comfort himself with the fact that he can hear Sulu breathing steadily. 

 

With a groan, Sulu starts to wake up. His bandages fingers clench, and then his eyes snap open. 

 

Almost soon as they do, he's throwing himself against the straps. When he begins to thrash, he also begins to scream. It’s a angry jumble of words, including Kirk’s name, but Chekov doesn't have time to decipher what he's saying.

 

_ I have to shut him up before he angers Mccoy, or worse, Kirk. _

 

Chekov is loath to raise his voice, afraid of alerting their crewmates. But he has no other way to get Hikaru’s attention, seeing as he's strapped down. He shouts, as quietly as possible while still being loud enough to be heard over the din.

 

“Hikaru! Hikaru, calm down! I'm here with you, you need to be quiet!”

 

The screaming and thrashing stops and Hikaru’s head turns towards him. When his eyes land on Chekov’s face, Hikaru's face lights up. It's pure joy, and Chekov has never seen him look this happy.

 

It's such a soft expression that Chekov feels a pang of fear. He is Hikaru’s consort and hikaru is his, but his lover never lets his guard down around him. The only time his mask drops is during sex, and even then it's only for a short amount of time. There's no words or emotions exchanged then. 

 

But now Hikaru's mask has fallen. His emotions are shining through and Chekov is afraid.

 

_ Does he really care about me that much?  _

 

The thought makes Chekov feels a swell of pride and happiness and another feeling he doesn't want to name. He tries not to thinks about it and focuses on Hikaru again.

 

The man has been staring at him and he now he speaks: 

 

“Pasha–

 

He's cut off by the soft noise of a door opening.

 

Chekov's soft thoughts are drowned by a sudden wave of fear and anger.

 

_ That idiot, he was too loud! Now they’ve come in, and after Mccoy specifically said they didn't want to be bothered! _

 

The doctor walks into the room. His face is creased with something, an expression Chekov has never seen before. It almost looks like. . . worry.

 

_ That can't be good. _

 

The doctor stops a few feet away from them. His eyes track across their prone bodies, checking that all their restraints are still in place. 

 

“Now then, what's all the ruckus in here?”

 

He smiles as he says it and Chekov jumps in before Hikaru can speak. 

 

“There's no problem sir. Sulu didn't mean to disturb you, we've taken care of it now.”

 

He can feel Hikaru’s incredulous state. His lover has always been too arrogant for his own good, doesn't understand how useful grovelling can be. Chekov, on the other hand, finds it one of his best weapons. 

 

He’s small and young, and his baby face makes his grovelling especially powerful. 

That and he's just good at it. He's practiced.

 

The doctor, however, seems unaffected.

_ That's strange. That sadistic bitch would usually be preening by now. _

 

Instead, Mccoy steps closer and peers suspiciously at Chekov.

 

“What was all the noise all about, then? If there's no problem?”

 

Chekov is caught off guard. That the doctor is actually able to think beyond torturing people and fighting vulcans is not something he's observed before. Especially not when he's hitting all the right groveling buttons. 

 

_ So why isn't it working? _

 

_ More importantly, what do I do now? _

 

His frantic thoughts are cut off when Hikaru speaks; words slow and unconcerned.

 

“I wasn't happy with the restraints, doctor. I was expressing my displeasure.”

 

Pavel gapes at Hikaru. Telling Mccoy the true shouldn't even be an option!

 

But instead of stabbing him for his insolence, the doctor moves to Hikaru’s side, looking concerned.

 

“What's wrong with the restraints? I can adjust them if you need me to.”

 

Hikaru gives him a shark grin. He's insufferably calm in their dangerous situation.

 

“What's wrong is that I don't want to be strapped down.”

 

Pavel wants to punch Hikaru's smug face in. He just keeps digging the hole deeper and deeper.

 

But the doctor laughs. 

 

He laughs—a loud, genuinely happy laugh for god’s sake—and gives Hikaru a lopsided but kind smile.

 

“Well I can't fix that, but if they’re digging into you I can loosen them, or put some extra padding.”

 

Hikaru must be as speechless as Chekov is because he's silent. 

 

_ McCoy being nice? What the hell is going on here? It must be a trap, a ploy. _

 

Hikaru seems to have recovered because he grins a charming grin at the doctor and coos: 

 

“If you could loosen them, that would be amazing.”

 

_ Looser bonds=easier to escape. But surely McCoy isn't going to fall for that. _

 

The doctor steps forwards and loosens the restraints.

 

Chekov has always thought he's crafty but whatever Kirk and McCoy are planning is beyond him. The realization hurts, like a punch in the throat.

 

If he doesn't understand, he can't protect Hikaru or himself. The captain had outsmarted them and now they have no choice but to wait for the inevitable conclusion to this game.

 

Chekov wants to cry. He wants to curl up and wait for the world to go away.

 

But he hasn't been able to cry since he was three, and the restraints won't let him curl up, and the world definitely isn't going away anytime soon.

 

McCoy leaves the room and Hikaru laughs a gleeful, unbelieving laugh.

 

“Did you see that? That idiot loosened the straps!”

  
Hikaru's joy only adds to his burden. He ignores his consort, closes his eyes and tries not to think at all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Loving people?!? dangerous in the mirror world :/


	8. chekov squared

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mirror Sulu does something dumb, unknowingly increasing Chekov's crush on sulu. Simultaneously, he hurts his own relationship with mirror chekov. Then mirror Chekov is introduced to his alternate while mirror sulu is blissfully unaware of the mess he's caused.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mirror Sulu and mirror Chekov's relationship may not seem like the greatest, but they are trying to be a healthy couple, they're just constrained by the mirror universe's rules. Imagine the mirror universe as extremely concentrated toxic masculinity.
> 
> tw for this chapter: blood and injury: someone gets stabbed, but it's not graphically described and they're fine in the end, I promise.
> 
> (this chapter is kinda confusing because it has parts from mirror chekov, normal chekov, and mirror sulu's pov. I haven't labeled which is which because I think you should be able to figure out whose pov it is by context. however, if you think it needs labeling, let me know and i'll change it1)

  


Chekov stews in his misery, listening to Hikaru tug on his restraints and curse. Finally, the cursing and creaking of fabric rises to a crescendo; then there’s a soft grinding noise. Hikaru waves his newly freed hand, missing a couple layers of skin, excitedly.

  


“Look, Pasha! I did it!”

  


He doesn't wait for a response before unlatching the restraint over his left hand, and then the ones over his legs.

  


Escape, which had seemed impossible, is suddenly happening.

  


Hikaru moves over to chekov’s bed and starts working on his left arm. 

  


_ What happens if he does get us out of her? Where do we go? We're stuck on a starship, and there’s no way we'll make it to a shuttle craft before we're caught. And if they do catch us trying to escape, then any immunity we had before will be gone. _

  


_ I have to do something. _

  


“Hikaru, stop! If we try to escape, we’ll only anger Kirk more!”

  


Hikaru stops and stares at Pasha, confused. He’s already unlatched Chekov’s left hand.

  


“What do you mean, stop?”

  


“We’ve been kept alive for a reason. If we don’t irritate Kirk, maybe we can continue to survive.”

  


Hikaru’s lip curls and the confusion changes to disgust. He straightens up, pulls away from the bed. His eyes are hard and cold, glinting like obsidian.

  


“I never knew you were such a coward, Pasha.”

  


He turns away and slips out of the door, leaving Chekov with his eyes stinging.

  


Hikaru’s cruelty shouldn’t hurt this much, he’s always been a reckless idiot with no appreciation for Chekov’s strategies, and their relationship was just a business arrangement really.

  


It shouldn’t hurt this much.

  


\------------------------------

  


Chekov has regained control of himself when the door to sickbay swishes open again. He lunges for the tray on the desk next to him, grabbing a scalpel and bringing his arm back to it’s original position before the person enters. As much as he wants it to be Sulu returning to him, it probably isn’t.

  


He’s right; it isn't Sulu, just Mccoy. The doctor strides into the room calmly, but his eyes widen and he pales when he sees the empty bed next to Chekov.

  


_ (Seeing the doctor afraid is a new and uncomfortable experience.) _

  


Mccoy rushes to the comm next to the door and yells into it, calling Kirk, and then security, for help. Once he’s shut it off, he heads back towards the beds, nervously muttering to himself:

  


“I’m too damn soft hearted to deal with all this space shit.” 

  


For some reason, he walks closer to Chekov.

  


“Looks like your friend took advantage of the loosed restrains, I’m going to have to tighten yours.”

  


The doctor gives him a strained smile and leans over the bed, somehow still unaware of Chekhov's free hand. 

  


Chekov knows he shouldn’t, he’d be safer if he didn’t, but the fear of having the torturer so close to him takes over.

  


He lashes out, burying the scalpel deep in the doctor’s side. The man chokes and whines, pulling himself off the blade. 

  


Chekov curses; it’s a small knife and he didn’t focus enough on where he was aiming. The knife sunk into the plush flesh over Mccoy’s hip and missed any organs. It’s barely even a real wound, let alone a fatal one.

  


The doctor is incapacitated though, shaking hands pressed to the wound. 

  


Apparently not incapacitated enough; he screams loud enough to be heard through the door. Chekov curses and swings the scalpel at him, but Mccoy is out of reach.

  


Nurse Chapel, Captain Kirk, and a team of redshirts come rushing through the door. Kirk sees Mccoy bleeding and is on him instantly, pulling him onto one of the beds opposite Chekov. Nurse Chapel begins pulling out medical equipment and scanning the wound.

  


Chekov grits his teeth at the fear and anger on the captain’s face.

  


_ I fucked up. _

  


Kirk glares at him a moment, then turns to order the security guards out of the room. The captain follows them, probably to lead the hunt for Hikaru.

  


It seems that Chekov is saved from Kirk’s wrath until Sulu is caught.

  


\---------------------------

  


Sulu creeps out of the doorway and into the main part of sickbay. There’s no one in sight, so he makes a break for the door out into the hallway. He charges through, into a fortunately empty hallway. 

  


Unfortunately, he has no idea of the layout around sickbay; no one went near it unless they were dumb or wanted to be experimented on. He runs a few steps down the hallway until he finds an alcove, which he shoves himself into. It’s deep enough that he can hide himself fully.

  


He needs a plan, but he’s unprepared for escape, and his mind is buzzing and upset after what he said to pasha.

  


_ But it was true, he deserved it! If he’s going to sit around and wait for death, then he is a coward and I should want nothing to do with him. _

  


He nods to himself; obviously he did the right thing.

  


_ Then why do I feel so guilty? _

  


Pasha’s face swims into his jumbled thoughts, scared and hurt by Sulu’s words, but still beautiful.

  


_ No! I will not be weak, I will not be soft on him, even if he is wonderful. _

  


He steels himself, against the soft thoughts in his head and against the hostile world of the enterprise. Still, he’s startled when something brushes past his hiding spot. It’s a crewmember in a red security uniform, walking fast down the hallway.

  


_ That’s weird, why would anyone be this close to sickbay? Maybe Kirk set an extra guard because he was keeping us there. I feel sorry for the poor sucker who pulled that assignment. _

  


Sulu is bracing for the guard's next pass, having a hostage would help him find his way back to areas he knows—

  


Someone in a yellow shirt walks by instead.

  


Sulu recognizes the brown fluff of Chekov’s hair and gapes in shock.

  


Pasha must have freed himself and decided to come along after all, somehow losing his sash along the way.

  


A grin works it’s way onto Sulu’s face and his mind begins to clear. There’s a bubbly, warm feeling working it’s way up into his chest, so soft he doesn’t want to think about it.

  


He steps out of the alcove and collides with Chekov, spinning him around so that they hit the wall. Sulu lands on top of him, their chests pressed close together and their legs entangled. 

  


He smiles into Chekov’s face, close enough that their noses are almost touching. He waits for Pasha to throw him off and reverse their positions, knows how he loves to be in control—

  


Chekov squawks and flinches away from Sulu and into the wall. His face is bright red, he’s blushing, actually blushing, what the hell? His face is unguarded and open in a way that Sulu’s never seen before; it looks good on him but it’s dangerous—

  


“Sulu, what are you doing?”

  


The wrong-Chekov speaks, looking up at Sulu through long lashes and the fringe of his bangs. His face is still bright red and he’s smiling shyly.

  


_ Something is very wrong here. _

  


The happiness that Sulu had felt a moment before disappears and is replaced with the familiar rage. He slams his hands against the wall next to wrong-Chekov’s head. He cries out in fear and tries to make himself smaller, eyes darting about, looking for an escape route, but he’s caged in by Sulu’s body.

  


Sulu snarls into his face:

  


“What happened, huh? I hurt your feelings so you decided to pull this shit?”

  


Wrong-Chekov flinches further back against the wall and stutters out:

  


“I d-don’t know what you’re talking about!”

  


\--------------------------

  


Chekov was walking to sickbay, he wanted to see the alternates Sulu told him about, when he’s slammed into the wall by something. By the time he’s recovered, he’s got a lean body pressed up against his own. He gasps and looks up into Sulu’s grinning face.

  


He should have noticed it then; there’s a long scar curling across this man’s face, the scar Sulu had described when talking about his doppleganger. But Chekov’s having a hard time focusing with Sulu’s chest against his and sulu’s thigh between his legs. Their faces are almost touching and all Chekov can think is  _ fuck yes. _

  


He needs to be sure though, so he tries to think through his rapidly fogging mind and his reddening face. He manages a short simple sentence:

  


“What are you doing, Sulu?”

  


He hopes Sulu is going to kiss him, is going to say something—

  


Sulu’s face suddenly twists with anger and he slams his hands into the wall, too close to Chekov’s head, and then he sees the scar.

  


Chekov realizes that the alternate Sulu had been roaming free and had mistaken him for the alternate chekov. Panic starts to seep into him.

  


_ Shit shit shit, this could be bad, the Captain said they’re violent! _

  


He tries to look for a way past the bulk of the alternate sulu, but there’s not a good way out. His frantic planning is interrupted by the man yelling into his face:

  


“What happened, huh? I hurt your feelings so you decided to pull this shit?”

  


Chekov flinches away from the increasingly angry and aggressive alternate.

  


“I d-dont know what youre talking about!”

  


The doppelganger bares his teeth and pulls back a fist. Chekov braces for the hit, but the alternate’s head suddenly snaps to the side. They both hear yelling, and running footsteps coming closer.

  


_ Thank the stars, I really didn’t want to get punched by my evil best friend. _

  


Alternate Sulu tenses and Chekov worries that he’s going to get punched anyways. Instead, he’s pulled behind the man, shielded from the oncoming security guards by his body. The doppelganger, yells, voice harsh and desperate:

  


“Stay behind me, Pasha!”

  


He jerks at the affectionate name spoken in Sulu’s voice. Longing swirls in his stomach.

  


The guards fix their phasers on the alternate Sulu. Captain Kirk is right behind them, and he waves them to a stop. He must have seen Chekov, even with the doppelganger’s attempts to protect him.

  


The captain calls out to him, voice kind and concerned:

  


“Ensign Chekov, are you alright?”

  


The alternate Sulu’s head whips around to look at Chekov, shock plain on his face. Chekov takes the opportunity to throw himself away from the doppelganger. An instant later, the guards open fire and the scarred man collapses.

  


Chekov stays sitting, staring at the man that’s so like Sulu and yet so unlike him.

  


Captain Kirk comes over to him and pulls him to his feet. The security guards begin carrying the unconscious man back to sickbay, Chekov and Kirk trailing behind them.

  


\-----------------------

  


Chekov is watching chapel finish bandaging Mccoy’s wound when the door opens again. A pair of red shirts enter, carrying Sulu. He’s limp and his eyes are shut, but his chest is moving slowly, so he’s still alive.

  


Chekov’s hopes rise at that, then fall again as Kirk enters after the guards. The redshirts put sulu back on the bed and redo the straps. The captain heads straight to Mccoy’s side. He leans over the prone doctor, face creased with worry, and gently takes his hand.

  


McCoy smiles up at him and doesn't protest the joining of hands. The softness between these two terrible men boggles chekov’s mind.

  


The comm near the door beeps. The captain pulls himself away from the doctor and goes to answer it. A strangely familiar voice come through:

  


“Keptin, is it alright if I come in? I think the cat's already out of the bag.”

  


Kirk sighs and rubs at his forehead. Worry, another emotion that the captain should be showing. Why is he suddenly so expressive?

  


“Alright, you can come in. But bring spock with you, I don't want to try to explain the science stuff on my own.”

  


He clicks off the comm and turns towards Chekov. He wilts under the captain’s stare.

  


“You might want to brace yourself.”

  


_ What? _

  


The door slides open. Spock steps in after him, followed closely by a crew member in a yellow shirt.

  


Chekov squints at the stranger, trying to figure out who they are. They must have been the one on the comm—

  
Chekov stares into his own eyes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The level of difficulty in this story just doubled. Poor chekov.  
> But now we can get to the good stuff! Like the actual comfort and relationship stuff.  
> Also, there will be new names for the alternates next chapter!


	9. mind melds aren't fun no matter what tos says

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mirror Chekov and Mirror Sulu learn about their situation the hard way.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *me, rubbing my grubby hands together* Ahhh yes, time for a mostly useless chapter with strange, confusing dream sequences. 
> 
> I hope this isn't to bad :/ at least it kinda sets up the relationship bc Spock a crush on every member of the bridge crew.  
> The headline when people find out:  
> "Vulcan tries to be emotionless, falls for six humans at once."

 

“What the fuck?”

 

Not the most elegant of statements, but what else do you say when you're face to face with your clone?

 

The Chekov in the doorway shifts uncomfortably. That right there is a sure sign that he’s not the real thing; pavel would never telegraph his weakness that easily.

 

Pavel wonders how Kirk had the time and the money to clone him. The technology is extremely rare, and not easy to use. Kirk must have really wanted the clone for some reason.

 

“Fucking fantastic. Not only am I going to die a painful death but my clueless clone is going to shame my good name afterward. Fuck you especially for that, Kirk.”

 

The clone looks completely confused. Pavel has never seen his face that soft and sweet before, and he hopes never to again.

 

More disturbing than his own clueless face is the confusion on everyone else’s faces. Kirk, eyebrow pulled up and forehead wrinkled, instead of a smirk. McCoy, eyes bright and kind, mouth an unhappy line, not his usual smile.

 

The emotion on their faces sets off the chorus of  _ wrong, wrong, wrong! _ in his head again, as does the stillness.

 

He’s just told Kirk to fuck off and he hasn’t moved, and neither has spock. By now, Chekov should be convulsing from a telepathic attack or a knife in his gut.

 

Hikaru, the asshole, chooses now to wake up. He groans and shakes his head, ruffling his bangs. Then he opens his eyes and takes in the interesting situation.

 

Instead of looking even a little disturbed, he smiles a smirk Pavel knows well and licks his lips. 

 

“Two Chekovs? I must have died and gone to heaven.”

 

He spots Kirk and his blue shirted cronies and his face falls.

 

“Nevermind.”

 

Pavel sighs, half in irritation and half in relief. Hikaru never can keep his mouth shut in a dangerous situation, but at least he’s okay. He pipes up again, still unconcerned:

 

“So, what's going on here? Anyone want to fill me in?”

 

The wrong-Kirk looks around expectantly. No one speaks.

 

He turns to the clone-Chekov and complains:

 

“I told you I wasn't explaining.”

 

The clone-Chekov starts to open his mouth, but is stopped by a small wave of Spock’s hand.

 

“I do not think words will sufficient for this task, captain.”

 

Kirk seems to understand what he’s talking about. His face turns worried and soft at the same time, almost like he’s concerned for someone.

 

“Are you willing to do that, spock?”

 

The Vulcan nods slowly. Kirk breathes in harshly and steps back, as if something dangerous is about to appear.

 

Spock steps forwards. Hikaru and pavel tense in unison. As vicious as Kirk and McCoy are, at least they're human. They can't rip you limb from limb without breaking a sweat or destroy your mind with a twitch of a finger.

 

The Vulcan glides towards Pavel’s bed, settling by his side. His long, elegant fingers twitch as he raises his hands. He places them on either side of Pavel’s head, and he prepares to get his neck broken. 

 

Instead, the touch stays soft and the Vulcan speaks:

 

“I am going to enter your mind. I will be as gentle as possible.”

 

Pavel giggles.

 

Wrong-spock looks confused, but tries to hide it.

 

Pavel can't stop laughing, and now Hikaru’s joining in. 

 

Finally, after his sides are sore from laughter, he looks back at the wrong- spock.

 

“I didn't know you had a sense of humor, Mr. spock, but that was a good joke.”

 

The Vulcan pulls away as if he’s insulted. Pavel’s tempted to laugh at him again, but he's looking angrier every second.

 

Pavel breaks eye contact and lies still.

 

Then he is no longer alone inside his head.

 

It's not like what he expected; there's no pain, only a slight discomfort. But he doesn't think spock is trying to hurt him yet; he must want something from Pavel.

 

_ Do I refuse to give him what he wants and have him tear my mind apart?  _

 

It’s already uncomfortable, although nothing like what he imagined. He doesn’t see Spock, or even hear him. He does  feel something; it’s like his thoughts were able to echo around his skull before, but now they’re running into something.

 

They bounce off and change directions more often than they should, rerouted by the intruder. His thoughts are suddenly to loud, his skull too small.

 

Spock sits on the edge of his mind like a cyst; not currently painful, but obviously not supposed to be there.

 

Then he pushes, and pavel’s mind tries to get out of his way, but doesn't have anywhere to go. Painful pressure builds on the left side of his head.

 

There's a flash of sea green water, light flickering through it, leaving fishscale patterns on a white wall.

 

And then spock is everywhere, and everything. Pavel is full of him, drowning in Spock's mind inside his own head. His thoughts hiss and spark where they meet Spock's: midnight blue struggling against blue green.

 

He chokes on his own tongue, mouth dry and gritty, as if he’s eaten sand. He can almost feel the grains in between his teeth. Somehow, he knows they're too red to be earthly.

 

He tries to fight, but spock is as fluid and unresisting as water, flowing around Pavel’s clawing hands.

 

The last of Pavel’s night colored thoughts are buried under the Caribbean waves of Spock.

 

Then, the pressure bursts, like a water balloon stuck by a pin, and the pain recedes.

 

His mind is still full, but now it’s a thousand thoughts and images, like schools of glimmering fish darting through his head. 

 

He sees wrong-kirk smiling, golden and glowing, a sun-god as intense as vulcan’s suns. 

He sees him leap towards a crackling security field, terror written across his face as Hikaru burns.

 

He sees Wrong-mccoy, pulsing with life, a green bud blooming into a scar-pink flower. 

He sees him gently lifting Pavel's nconscious body onto a gurney.

 

He sees Clone-chekov, haloed in binary, speaking as infinite fractal snowflakes fall.

He sees him putting data cards into a computer, negative responses each time. 

 

He sees Clone-sulu, someone he’s never seen, black soil intertwining with soft brown roots.

He sees him staring through an observation window at his own body, wonder on his face.

 

He sees Wrong-uhura, a web of yellow energy, ion storms crackling across the ship’s hull, signals across empty space, lighting fast fingers across a control board.

He sees her carefully preparing two rooms, side by side, heavy locks on the doors but soft pillows on the beds.

 

He sees wrong-scott, coppery liquid in a bottle, bent and broken bushings clattering into a drawer, blood on a sharp piece of metal. 

He sees him working on the transporter console, finding a burnt out wire and angrily removing it.

 

His lips move with Wrong-spock’s words:

 

_ With such unknown amounts of potential damage, we cannot justify returning the alternates. _

 

Then wrong-spock turns to right-spock and pavel turns to wrong-chekov, chess pieces clattering to the floor as the gravity fails, his world turning upside down.

 

The presence in his head vanishes and he gasps back to reality.

 

And he understands.

 

They are the wrong in this universe, thrown here by a storm and malfunctioning transporter. They can never go back. They are eternal prisoners in a world that is not their own.

 

And he understands nothing.

 

He’s seen the masters of this world, the enterprise crew, through spock’s eyes. But that isn’t enough to learn them, to know how they’ll react, how to speak and appeal to them, how to stay alive around them.

 

He  _ needs _ to know.

 

Hikaru is screaming, meaningless to Pavel’s ears for a moment, but slowly taking on form.

 

_ Pasha,Pasha,Pasha,Pasha,Pasha,Pasha,Pasha,Pasha,Pasha,Pasha! _

 

It’s almost meaningless in Hikaru's mouth, A desperate, rhythmic chant, a prayer to gods Hikaru has never believed in.

 

Spock doesn’t stop, advancing on the frantic man, hands outstretched. He reaches down, bracing his fingers on the side of Hikaru’s head.

 

Hikaru stops screaming Pavel’s name and howls instead. A long, terrifying scream, full of terror and hatred, the cry of a wolf caught in a trap.

  
Then he’s silent.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mind melds that aren't consensual make me a bit uncomfortable;I know star trek has never really cared. But they say it's really personal for vulcans to meld and yet Spock melds with someone every single episode...but what's really important is that this is as close as this fic will get to non-con.


	10. Nice Sulu joins the fray

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I project my concerns over mind melds onto mccoy. The doctor begins to form a be-nice-to-murderous-clones task force.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright, I have a confession to make. When I wrote the first 9 chapters, I hadn't actually seen the episode in at least a year. I did rewatch it this weekend, but my DVD is damaged so I haven't ever seen past the part where evil-spock begins to meld with Mccoy. Oops! It doesn't seem like my characterisation was too off, though.  
> (if anyone wants to fill me in go for it!)

  


Hikaru doesn't wake up.

  


Even when Spock steps away from him, even when the wrong-right crew leaves the room, he doesn't wake up.

  


He’s breathing, but motionless. His eyes are closed, perfectly still, not even a twitch of an eyelid. He must have fought Spock longer than Pavel to be this deeply unconscious.

  


Pavel's brain is still spinning, he can't think clearly. His tongue is dry, his mouth raw. Perhaps that sand was not as imaginary as he'd previously thought.

  


It hurts to try to think, to speak, to process. He lets the silence and the exhaustion seep into him. He lets his eyes slip closed.

  


\---------------------------------

  


As they leave the unofficial cell, McCoy lags behind. He flops into a chair as soon as he reaches one, and the rest settle in around him. Spock remains standing at the captain's side.

  


McCoy rubs at his forehead for a moment and then begins to speak.

  


“I'm not sure that was a good idea, spock.”

  


“They would not have believed us otherwise, Doctor.”

  


“Maybe not, but I think we might have done some damage that will be very difficult to repair. If we want them to calm down and stop trying to murder people all the time, they're going to have to feel safe enough not to fight us.”

  


“I did not cause them pain or harm.”

  


“I know you didn't, spock. But in the world they came from...things are very different. And I know how they felt. When I stayed behind to work on the alternate you, he forced a mind meld with me. I'm used to your Vulcan tricks, so I didn't resist. 

  


But it was horrible. Even if he wasn't harming me, it hurt. His mind against mine was rough and painful, and he would have torn me apart if I hadn't let him in.

  


He had all the power of a Vulcan and none of your restraint, Spock, and that's what Vulcans are like in that universe.

  


So when you go barging into their minds, that's what they expect. Vulcans there don't mind meld to help, Spock, only hurt. 

  


I worry that letting you force a mind meld upon them will have made them so distrustful of us that they won't go along with what we want, even if they do understand better now.”

  


Kirk joins the conversation:

  


“I understand what you mean, bones, but we're not trying to rehabilitate or assimilate them. We're just keeping them contained until we can get rid of them.”

  


McCoy sighs and shakes his head. 

  


“Alright, but we might be stuck with them a long time.”

  


“We’ll deal with that when we get there, if we get there.”

  


Kirk pulls himself up and leaves to check on the bridge, Spock following silently. 

  


That leaves McCoy alone with Chekov.

  


The ensign shifts like he wants to speak but doesn't quite know what to say. McCoy turns his head to give him his full attention.

  


“I agree with you, doctor. I know they're dangerous, but they don't seem bloodthirsty like I thought they would be.”

  


Mccoy snorts and rubs at the freshly regenerated skin on his side.

  


“They're definitely dangerous.”

  


Chekov notices the movement and frowns worriedly.

  


“Did something happen to you, doctor?”

  


“I'd say so. I went to check on them after evil sulu escaped, and I tried to tighten evil Chekov’s restraints. I don't know if he pulled his arm out or if evil sulu let him out, but one of his arms was free. When I leaned over, he stabbed me with a scalpel. 

  


It was terrifying, of course, no one likes getting stabbed. But he didn't hit me quite right, it wasn't a serious wound. But what scares me the most was when he realized that. He kept coming after me, but I was out of reach by then.

  


When he attacked me, I didn't see bloodlust. He was afraid when I leaned over him, and then when he didn't kill me in one strike, he was desperate to finish the job.

  


They're definitely dangerous, but I'm not sure they evil. They seem more like a rabid animal that's found itself backed into a corner.

  


And they do seem to genuinely care for each other, too. At least, evil sulu was really upset when spock messed with evil chekov's mind.”

  


Chekov has paled, but nods in agreement.

  


“They do seem to have concern for each other, surely that shows they aren't all bad?”

  


McCoy laughs.

  


“Even if they are all bad, I've got them in my sickbay and I've got to deal with them. Easy for Kirk to say we can scare them and then not worry about the aftermath when he gets to go back to his pretty little bridge. 

  


Meanwhile, I'm stuck with two pissed off murderers in my sickbay, one of whom has already attacked me.

  


I think it'd be a good plan to try to befriend them, or at least be nice to them. And that's what I'm going to do.”

  


Chekov's face brightens. 

  


“I'd like to help you, doctor, if that's all right? And I'm sure I could get sulu to help too.”

  


McCoy grins at the exuberant young man.

  


“I'll take any help I can get.”

  


\-----------------------

  


Sulu had left the sickbay as soon as they started moving his alternate; as the captain had ordered.

  


It’s his shift off so he’s heading to his botany lab, planning to work on the new ivy he got from Andor yesterday.

  


Instead, he’s interrupted by a beeping of a wall intercom and Chekov’s voice echoing through the hall.

  


“Calling Sulu!”

  


He stops at the intercom and presses the button.

  


“Yes, Chekov? What’s up?”

  


“Will you come to sickbay, Hikaru? I need some help with something.”

  


Sulu sighs at the vague request, thinking longingly of his quiet lab. 

  


“You're not even going to tell what you need help with? It's like you expect me to come running at your every beck and call!”

  


Chekov giggles and teases back:

  


“It's cause I already know you will, Hikaru. See you soon!”

  


Sulu shakes his head affectionately as the intercom clicks off. He turns around and goes back the way he came, curious about what Chekov's gotten himself into this time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One thing I did notice from the episode was that sulu pursued uhura, so I'd like to specify how my mirror universe headcanon works.
> 
> actual committed or healthy relationships are frowned upon. A relationship should only continue as long as your partner is useful. As such, the turnover of partners is often high. High level officers usually choose one official consort, like mirror-kirk's "woman", but often have relationships on the side. Mirror-kirk, Mirror-mccoy, and Mirror-spock had an unofficial relationship formed out of lust and mirror kirk's desire to control the members of his triumvirate.
> 
> mirror chekov and mirror sulu's relationship was formed out of usefulness and lust, but developed into actual love. In the mirror universe, this might have gotten them killed, so they would have served that as soon as they noticed. Fortunately, they are no longer in the mirror universe.


	11. making friends is hard

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chekov and Sulu try to have a nice, calm talk with their doppelgangers. Unsurprisingly, it doesn't go well.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So far I've felt like I'm writing Chekov too much like the reboot movie Chekov. I think this chapter helps pull his characterization back into TOS. TOS chekov did have the sweet innocent stuff going on, but he also was a grumpy, easy-to-anger guy, so I think this chapter shows more of that side of him.

 

Sulu saunters into sickbay and is instantly greeted by Chekov. His hand is quickly grabbed and then he's being dragged towards the room where the alternates are. Mccoy stands at a table nearby, a tissue sample on the monitor, watching with amusement.

 

Before Chekov can pull him through the door, Sulu digs his heels in.

 

“Wait a minute, Chekov. Tell me what we're doing before we go into the room of dangerous clones of ourselves.”

 

Chekov sighs and stomps his foot like an impatient horse.

 

“Fine. 

 

Doctor McCoy wants to be nice to the doppelgängers so that they don't stab him again. I want to help him because I don't think they're evil, just scared.”

 

Sulu resists the urge to bury his head in his hands. Chekov’s misguided attempts to help things that would happily murder him is what gets him attacked almost every away mission. 

 

First it was the small fluffy mammals that turned out to be like earth’s piranhas, then the delicate flowering plants that turned out to carnivorous, now these alternate universe doppelgangers…

 

Sulu is always there to pull him out of the way when his new pet project tries to bite off his hand.

 

So he follows Chekov into the room without further complaint.

 

As they enter, Chekov’s doppelgänger raises his head. His eyes gleam darkly, with none of the joyful glint that should be there. His eyes track them, intense, like a predator watching for weakness.

 

Chekov speaks up, shifting nervously from foot to foot.

 

“Um...hello! We wanted to see if there was anything we could do to make you more comfortable!”

 

Silence stretches out as the alternate Chekov only stares, Chekov wilting with every second.

 

The silence is broken when the doppelgänger scoffs. 

 

“Comfortable? You really are pathetic. Is your mind as soft as your face?”

 

Despite not fully understanding what the alternate means, the tone is a clear, cutting dismissal. Sulu sees Chekov’s face crumple.

 

While the navigator is generally cheerful and kind, he is also easily angered, and always holds a grudge. Sulu can already see he'll  moping for the next week. 

 

Chekov turns stiffly and leaves the room, anger an almost physical presence.

 

Sulu sighs. Chekov needs to be left alone for now, when he's like this talking to him won't do any good. So, he decides to continue working with the alternates.

 

He steps next to the alternate Chekov’s bed, trying to push down his anger at the cruel man. 

 

“Now that you guys know that you're in an alternate universe, we don't have to hide from you anymore. Unfortunately, that means things are going to get confusing fast. Would you be open to picking new names so that we can tell ourselves apart?”

 

The alternate just stares wordlessly, though he looks less angry and more confused, now. Still, he refuses to answer.

 

Sulu sighs and heads over to his alternate self’s bed.

 

“Think about it and let me know what you decide, okay?”

 

As expected, only silence. 

 

Sulu continues over to his alternate. Up close, he's even more foreboding than the first time he saw him. The scar looks like some sort of alien worm, curled up inside his skin, ready to latch on to a new victim if they come too close. 

 

His body, like sulu’s, is short and stout, but unfamiliar otherwise. His shoulders fill out the uniform better than sulu’s ever have, and his upper body is thick with muscle. Underneath the gold sash wrapped around his waist, there's the dense curves of abs.

 

He doesn't have the lean build of a sword fighter that sulu’s worked so hard to develop. Instead, he’s bulky, threatening to look at and surely painful to be hit by.

 

Plucking up his courage and hoping he isn't making a fatal mistake, sulu taps his fingers on the bed, hoping the noise will wake the alternate up. The man doesn't move, even when sulu shakes him gently.

 

_ That's not good, he couldn't be that deeply asleep. He must be unconscious. I should tell doctor McCoy, something might be seriously wrong. _

 

Sulu leaves the room without a word to the sulking alternate Chekov.

 

\-------------

 

Pavel cannot believe these people. He insulted the wrong-Chekov, irritated him enough to make him storm off, and yet the wrong-sulu seemed unconcerned. He stayed on his path, asking about  _ names _ of all things.

 

_ How pointless and soft. _

 

Pavel wonder what it is that's made these people so pliable.

 

What makes them forgive their enemies, bare their back to a second attack?

 

What makes them think and act so soft, asking for permission and names?

 

What makes them absorb insults and attacks without complaint?

 

What makes them so submissive, that they would show themselves weak and allow themselves to be taken advantage of?

 

If they weren't so confusing and irritating, Pavel would have enjoyed a world full of weak minded prey.

  
As it is, he just feels wrong and worried, Hikaru’s silence a continuing reminder that these people are able and willing to hurt them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter, finally, we'll rename mirror Chekov and mirror Sulu. hopefully, that will make this easier to read.
> 
> If you have any suggestions for what to name them, let me know!


	12. building trust via surgery

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mccoy learns more about alternate Chekov. Mirror chekov comes to terms with the new world and begins changing his tactics.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> none of your faves are straight~ they're not cis ethier~
> 
> I have decided that for this story that mirror Chekov will be a trans guy. I refuse to write a story without a non-cis person, and I needed something to get mccoy and chekov talking, so it all worked out.
> 
> tw: mention of non-con medical procedures w/ slight body horror (mirror universe), non graphic description of surgery, unsafe binding, discussion of top surgery

 

Sulu comes out of the room a few minutes after Chekov storms out, considerably calmer than the navigator.

 

McCoy gets up from his chair, hoping that Sulu will be more willing to talk than Chekov was.

 

_ Well, no one’s bleeding, so whatever it was couldn't have been that bad. _

 

“You feel like filling me in on what happened, sulu?”

 

The helmsman stops and nods amiably.

 

“Nothing surprising, sir. The alternate Chekov snapped at our Chekov and he was upset. He'll be fine, just needs some time to stew. 

 

But I am worried about the alternate Sulu, sir. He's unconscious, he didn't wake up even when I shook him. Could there be something wrong with him?”

 

McCoy shakes his head, grumbling:

 

“I told that damn Vulcan that mind melds would be bad for them, this is probably just a symptom. I'll go check on them, though, if they are seriously damaged it needs to be treated immediately.”

 

He strides past Sulu, mind already narrowing down to laser focus on his patients. He grabs a datapadd before he enters the room, pulling up the full body scans he'd taken of the alternates while they were unconscious.

 

He taps at the screen, pulling up alternate Sulu’s data as he walks through the door. He can hear the quiet hiss of fabric sliding across cushions as alternate Chekov jerks when he enters, but ignores him. Alternate Sulu is all that matters right now.

 

He reaches the man’s bed in a couple steps and pulls out a tricorder, setting it to scan Sulu as he checks his vitals on the monitor over his head. 

 

The steady beeping of his heartbeat reassures McCoy that he's still alive. It's slower than it should be, but that's just because he’s unconscious. Otherwise, he seems fine. Blood pressure, breathing rate, all normal.

 

The tricorder finishes its scan. He compares the fresh data to the old and they match up just fine. He runs a specialized scan on alternate Sulu’s brain; if there is damage, that's where it'll be.

 

He taps his foot as he waits and tries to ignore alternate chekov’s stare burrowing into his skull. He's startled out of his daze by the tricorder beeping again as it finishes the brain scan.

 

He checks it over. There’s a couple regions of unhealthily low activity, probably a side effect of the mind meld, but no bleeding or physical damage that McCoy could fix. 

 

Alternate sulu's just going to have to make it through on his own. The helplessness grates on his doctor’s nerves and he grits his teeth in irritation.

 

To make himself feel more in control, he pulls up alternate chekov’s data and approaches his bed. Something strange catches his eye as he pulls up the scan of his torso.

 

\---------------

 

Pavel watches hatefully as McCoy leans over Hikaru. He can't tell what the doctor is doing, and even if he could, he wouldn't be able to stop it.

 

He focuses on holding his glare on McCoy despite the fear sinking into him. The doctor avoids his eyes as the tricorder beeps a second time. Then, he suddenly turns away from Hikaru and approaches Pavel's bed.

 

His bravado quails in the face of the torturer. He tries to prop it up with anger, but only halfway succeeds. 

 

The doctor stops at his side, still tapping on the pad in his hand. He looks down at Pavel a moment, then begins to speak nonchalantly:

 

“ l was reviewing your scans when I noticed you've got a badly healed rib fracture, and some surface scarring on your chest. You want to tell me what that’s about?”

 

It may be phrased as a question, but Pavel knows it’s not. Why the doctor doesn't just do the math and figure it out, he doesn't know, But he's not going to ask and piss him off.

 

“The scars are from when I got my chest fixed. The fractures from before that. Accidentally cracked one of my ribs, but it got better.”

 

It'd taken him a while to find a safe doctor to stick him, slice his chest off so he didn't have to wear his bandages anymore.

 

Before he’d managed to find a doctor, he'd worn the bandages to a meeting that'd run over and a couple of his ribs had cracked. Working his shifts had sucked for a couple weeks after that, but it'd gotten better eventually.

 

The doctor looks affronted and complains in an astonished tone:

 

“That doesn't just get better, the rib’s misaligned and its got a mass of scar fissure around it, its pressing down on your lung. It must be making breathing difficult, at least. Why didn't you get it fixed when it got fractured?”

 

Pavel snorts.

 

“Why would I? I'm not stupid, I know when to keep to myself.”

 

Mccoy’s mouth works, anger flashing through his blue eyes. 

 

“Well, in going to fix it now. There's no reason for you to suffer when you don't need to. I'll call nurse chapel, you go ahead and take your shirt off.”

 

the doctor reaches over to free his arms, but Pavel doesn't notice. He's buried under a wave of panic and dread. There's nothing he can do to stop this, but he desperately wishes there was. 

 

He starts pulling off his shirt mechanically, mind filled with terror and not much else. When he wakes up after this, who knows what he'll find? 

 

Will McCoy have cut off one of his limbs? Pulled one of his organs out? Put poison in his veins?

 

His hands shake as he puts the shirt and uniform sash on the table next to him. Nurse chapel comes in with a tray of unfamiliar instruments. McCoy has pulled on elbow high medical gloves.

 

As the blueshirts approach, Pavel considers attacking them. His arms are free, and they're going to half to get close to him.

 

The doctor must notice his uneasiness.

 

“There's no need to be worried, it's a simple procedure. You don't even have to go under anaesthetic if you don't want to.”

 

It too good to be true, had to be a trap, but Pavel is willing to take any opportunity given to him. 

 

“Yes, please, I don't want to be unconscious.”

 

Alright, we'll just a local anaesthetic. It's going to hurt if we don't knock you out, though.”

 

_ Anything is better than being unconscious around you. _

 

“I don't care. Just don't knock me out.”

 

The doctor sighs but reaches for a contraption on chapel’s tray. He turns it on, emitting a low hum and blue light, and holds it over Pavel's torso. 

 

There's a feeling of intense cold, then nothing. McCoy presses a finger to his skin where the light hit.

 

“Can you feel that?”

 

“No, not at all.”

 

“Good. The local anaesthetic should shut down all of the nerves in the area, but sometimes it takes a while to take effect. Always have to check that it's working before I get started.”

 

As he's talking, he pulls more tools off of the tray, one of them a razor sharp scalpel. Pavel's stiffens, can't take his eyes off the glimmer of the blade.

 

_ They haven't tied my arms down, I can attack him, stop them… _

 

He's ready to attack when McCoy looks at him. His face is gentle and concerned as he says:

 

“You shouldn't look at yourself while we do this, seeing your insides can be disturbing. We can pull up something for you to read or watch if you want?”

 

That's when the realization that spock has started really hits. This is not the McCoy he knows, or he would have already been gleefully cutting into Pavel’s flesh.

 

And this strange McCoy is concerned about his comfort, willing to distract him from the operation so he won't be  _ upset _ . 

 

They seem so concerned about comfort here: the clone-Chekov had asked about it, wrong-spock had tried not to hurt them in the mind meld, and now McCoy is trying not to upset him.

 

This is not his world. This is not his McCoy. He needs to stop thinking in what he knows and start paying attention to what this new world is telling him.

 

And, unbelievably, that seems to be that McCoy isn't going to hurt him. He takes a deep breath, catching slightly like it always does, and tries to relax.

 

“I don't need anything to do, thank you.”

 

He stares at the ceiling trying not to think or move as the doctor leans over him.

 

\-------------------

 

It's a simple procedure, McCoy knows. But as he looks at the tense wary man on the bed, he's sure that this is going to be difficult. 

 

He offers the local anaesthetic, trying to respect the boundaries that had been smashed when spock invaded their minds.

 

Seeing the alternate Chekov’s pleas not to be knocked out, he knows he's made the right choice.

 

He applies the local anaesthetic and checks that it's working. Alternate Chekov is only getting tenser every second. McCoy needs to do something, or this could get ugly fast.

 

He's left the man's arms free as a gesture of trust, but as the alternate eyes the scalpel on the tray, McCoy begins to regret that decision.

 

But he tries to stay calm, keep treating the doppelgänger like any other crewman.

 

“You shouldn't look at yourself while we do this, seeing your insides can be disturbing. We can pull up something for you to read or watch if you want?”

 

That somehow seems to be the magic word. The doppelgänger looks confused for a moment, then suddenly relaxes.

 

“I don't need anything to do, thank you.” 

 

The doppelganger tilts his head back and stares sightlessly at the ceiling. Mccoy shrugs and gets to work.

 

He has to cut away some of the scar tissue around the rib, but after that it’s easy. He knits the mismatched bone back together with the regenerator, heals the flesh around it, and then shuts the wound. As he’s closing the cut, Nurse chapel leans in next to him to take a closer look at the doppelganger's chest.

 

She isn’t looking at the wound on his ribcage, but instead at the curving scars on his pecs. They strange, too exact and even to be battle scars, and Mccoy hasn't been able to figure out what they’re from yet.

 

Alternate Chekov tenses as she stares at his chest and McCoy prepares to pull her out of his reach.

 

“I recognize these scars, doctor. I took a class on the history of medicine. Before they had regenerators, surgical procedures left very distinctive scars. These look like the scars left by what they called “top surgery”.”

 

Alternate Chekov looks less fearful, but still defensive.

 

“I told you I had to get my chest fixed. Is that as problem?”

 

His fists are clenched and his eyes are angry, like a trapped dog ready to bite.

 

“No, not at all. I just didn't recognize the scars because our regenerators remove any scars after a procedure like that. Did your universe not have regenerators?”

 

“I assume McCoy had them down in his medbay, but I don't know. We just sewed ourselves up and left it at that. If you've got scars it means you've survived something, shows you're strong.”

 

McCoy decides not to keep his thoughts on that quiet.

 

“Just to clarify for my records, you are a trans man?

 

“If that's what you call your body not fitting right, then yeah.”

 

McCoy taps on the padd screen, adding a note to alternate Chekov's file.

 

“Alright, thank you. The wound should be closed up by now, but don't move around too much or you might stress the new tissue.”

 

The doppleganger looks down and sees the smooth skin over his ribcage.

 

“How the hell did you do that? There isn't even a mark or anything!”

 

“I told you, the regenerator. It regrows tissue so that we can heal wounds almost instantly.”

 

McCoy pulls the device off the tray and hands it to the alternate. He takes it and turns it over, studying it. He wrinkles his nose at the solid shell covering it. It doesn't even look like a machine, it's impressive technology.

 

“Would be nice to have one of those.”

 

The doctor takes it back and sets it on the tray. Nurse chapel turns and leaves the room, taking the tools with her.

 

“There are miniaturized versions in first aid kits all over the enterprise. We don't give them out to crew members because they just come on down to sickbay and we fix them up.”

 

The alternate Chekov looks suspicious at that, but nods in acceptance. 

 

“Your friend should wake up on his own, hopefully soon. If he starts to wake up, or does anything strange, yell for me, okay?”

 

“Thank you for working on me, doctor.”

 

“It's my job, son. If you ever have an injury, no matter how unimportant you think it is, tell me.”

 

He looks doubtful, but nods again. Mccoy, satisfied by being able to fix something, leaves to finish his paperwork.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not all trans people like/ feel the "wrong body" narrative, but i think the mirror universe would over simplify things and just stick that on their trans people.


	13. enter Uhura

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A thousand thanks to Charlie for writing me an amazing review and reminding me of what happened between Uhura and mirror Sulu!
> 
> The way I write mirror Sulu, I can't imagine him actually sexually assaulting someone, but that doesn't change the predatory way he acted and I wouldn't want to erase Uhura's reaction to that! 
> 
> Just to clarify the current relationship status:
> 
> It will end in polyamory, but the only official couples right now are 
> 
> Mirror sulu/mirror chekov  
> uhura/chekov
> 
> sulu/chekov- requited but unconfirmed  
> spock/everyone-crushes but unconfirmed  
> mccoy/kirk-requited but unconfirmed
> 
> this is going to be a really long fic, and a lot of that is going to be developing the relationships.

Uhura, despite her bravado in the transporter room, is afraid. 

 

She didn't hesitate to shoot mirror Sulu because he was attacking Captain Kirk, but now that she's alone, his angry shout echoes in her ears. She sees his sneer when she closes her eyes, remembers his arms caging her in.

 

She's begun preparing the rooms for the mirror people, if they ever are safe enough to put them there.

 

She doesn't want to go near them, near him. But at the same time, staying completely removed for the situation makes it worse. If she doesn't know what's happening with them, she'll feel like he's lurking around every corner.

 

So she prepared the rooms, fluffing pillows, putting clothes in the cabinet, engaging the heavy duty locks. She stays near to enough to the situation to fulfil her need to know, without having to go near him.

 

Eventually, she's done all she can in the rooms. She calls the bridge to let Kirk know, though he doesn't need them yet. Then, she still has half an off shift to burn, so she heads down to one of the simulator rooms.

 

She's lucky; it's set on her favorite today. Her, Sulu, and Chekov had programmed it. Chekov has written the code, Sulu has provided the plants, and Uhura had given the birds their song. 

 

She steps into the garden, greeted by the trickling of water and the tweeting of birds. She breathes in the sweet air and walks along the path to her favorite bench.

 

It's where the stream begins, underneath a weeping willow. It's shielded by bushes adorned with small white flowers. The bench is padded and comfortable.The mocking birds roost there, picking up birdsong from the other parts of the garden and combining them into a beautiful, mismatched song.

 

However, when she arrives, she sees that she's not alone. Chekov is lying down on the bench, throwing a ball into the wall over and over again.

 

She sighs as she looks at him; he only needs this sort of repetitive movement if he's upset. She sits down next to him, setting her book aside.

 

“What happened, Pasha?”

 

He catches the ball again, then pauses and opens his eyes. He turns to look at her and smiles weakly.

 

“Hey Uhura.”

 

She brushes his hair back from his forehead, petting the soft strands comfortingly.

 

“I tried to talk to mirror me.”

 

Uhura feels her brow furrow. The mirror universe was a painful place, one she would not like to see ever again. And Chekov, so kind and sweet, willingly putting himself through that, makes her irritated.

 

Her disapproval must hang in the air; he looks up at her and laughs gently.

 

“I know, I know. But it's me from an alternate universe! How could I stay away from that? And I don't think they're that bad, Uhura.”

 

She freezes. She knows that Chekov is often too kind for his own good, and that he hadn't seen the mirror universe himself, so he can't  _ know. _

 

But. 

 

“Pasha. I know you don't like to believe in lost causes, but they are vicious and evil, I was in their world, I know what they're like. Even if they don't want to be, they don't know anything but how to hurt, how to kill those weaker than them and betray those stronger than them.Please, Pasha. Believe me!”

 

“Uhura, I trust you, I really do! But they do care for each other, so they must have the most basic beginnings of empathy. Now that they're here, maybe we can help them be better.”

 

Uhura rubs at her forehead, looking away from him. 

 

“Pasha, I don't want to fight with you about this. But please, just be careful.”

 

“Of course, Uhura. I have no intention of letting myself kill me.”

 

She laughs at him and cracks open her book. They lie together on the bench and listen to the birds sing.

 

\--------------

 

Pavel is dozing when Hikaru comes back to himself. He comes awake with a scream, straining against the restraints.

 

It's startles Pavel, but he recovers quickly. Hikaru, it seems, learned his lesson about making a fuss: After the first scream, he goes silent and stops struggling against the restraints. Instead, he begins shaking. He trembles on the bed, eyes blank. 

 

“Hikaru.”

 

He doesn't respond. Pavel tries speaking louder.

 

“Hikaru.”

 

He still doesn't respond, or even seem aware of the world. Chekov resorts to shouting:

 

“Hikaru!”

 

He remains silent and blank. There’s something very wrong about seeing him like this; he’s usually so loud and expressive. Pavel, unsettled, makes a decision: he calls for Mccoy.

 

The doctor comes tearing through the door; apparently his promise to come if called was given in good faith.

 

He screeches to a stop next to Hikaru’s bed, tricorder already out and scanning. He doesn’t look away from his patient as he asks Pavel:

 

“What’s wrong?”

 

“He seemed like he was waking up, he screamed and thrashed for a moment, but then he just went still. I tried speaking to him but he remained unresponsive.”

 

Mccoy finishes the scan and huffs in irritation. 

 

“His brain activity is spiking, he’s fighting to come out of it but not quite making it. He needs something to help him come back to the real world.”

 

“I can bring him back. Untie me, let me touch him, I can bring him back.”

 

Mccoy looks at him, apologetic. 

 

“I’m not letting you up from there. You stabbed me and he attacked a crewman when he got free. It’s too dangerous.”

 

Pavel’s rash action may not have enraged Kirk but it’s still come back to haunt him. He has no counter to the doctor’s argument; he’s already proven himself untrustworthy. He resorts to the only weapon he has left: emotion.

 

“What if he never comes out of it on his own? What if you’re leaving him to die?”

 

Mccoy’s face twists, but he remains unconvinced. Pavel grasps at straws, desperate for anything to help Hikaru. His soft-self’s face flashes across his mind.

 

“What about my clone? He sounds and looks the same as me, if you call him down here, he should be able to do it.”

 

Mccoy looks thoughtful.

 

“He stormed out of here earlier because of something you said. If he’s going to come back down here, which he has to agree to, by the way, then you have to promise you won’t antagonize him anymore.”

 

It’s a small price to pay for Hikaru's safety.

 

“I won't say a word to him, I swear.”

 

Still looking unsure, McCoy moves to the communicator by the door and keys in the call code for Chekov’s personal communicator. It beeps for a moment, then Chekov’s voice comes through:

 

“Hello? Is there something wrong is sickbay, doctor?”

 

“The alternate Sulu isn't coming out if his coma. We need someone with your voice to help bring him out of it, but I'm not going to let alternate Chekov up. If you were willing to come down and help me wake alternate Sulu up, that would be great.”

 

“I will be down in a couple minutes.”

 

\-------------

 

Uhura and Chekov’s serene silence is interrupted by the whistle of his communicator. He pulls it out of his pants pocket and flips it open.

 

“Hello? Is there something wrong in sickbay, doctor?”

 

“The alternate Sulu isn't coming out if his coma. We need someone with your voice to help bring him out of it, but I'm not going to let alternate Chekov up. If you were willing to come down and help me wake alternate Sulu up, that would be great.”

 

He can feel Uhura stiffen next to him at the mention of the alternates. Despite his anger at his snippy doppleganger, he doesn't even have to think before he tells McCoy he’ll come down. 

 

The alternate Sulu doesn't deserve to be stuck in a coma forever, and expecting McCoy to let alternate Chekov up is unreasonable. He doesn't want the doctor to get stabbed again.

 

“I will be down in a couple minutes.’

 

As he flips the communicator shut, he can feel Uhura’s disapproval. He turns slowly, trying not to meet her eyes.

 

Of course, he can only avoid looking at her for so long. Eventually, he meets her eyes.

 

“Pasha. Why would you go down there again?”

 

“Uhura, he may never come out of that coma without help, and we’re the ones who put him there. The only person he positively responds to is the alternate me, but we can’t release him, he’s already attacked Mccoy once. I’m just trying to protect the doctor, and evil Sulu is unconcious anyways, what can he do to me?”

 

Uhura’s face hardens, but she doesn’t say anything. Chekov’s logic is pretty solid, and she knows how stubborn he can be. 

 

“Fine. But i’m going with you.”

 

He remembers how distant she became when anyone mentioned the alternate Sulu, the fear and hatred with which she talked about the mirror universe. It had been terrible over there, she shouldn’t have to plunge herself back into that, but she wants to protect him.

 

“Uhura, no! I’ll be fine, I'll be careful, I swear! You don’t need to come down, you’ve been working all day, you should rest!”

 

His desperate attempts to dissuade her are cut off when she steps forward and pulls him into a soft kiss. She’s wearing her strawberry chapstick today. The sweetness lingers even after she breaks the kiss, pulling away and patting his shoulder gently.

 

“Thank you for your concern, but if you’re going down there, then I’m going with you.” 

 

He wilts; he doesn’t want her stuck in the suffocating sickbay, but once she’d gotten a plan into her head it was almost impossible to change it.

  
He shakes his head, licking at the bit of chapstick she’d left, and gives in. He takes her hand as she stands up and together they head to sickbay.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> would anyone be interested in adding mirror sulu/chekov and mirror chekov/sulu? I could easily see myself writing it but I know there's already a shit ton of relationships in here.
> 
> If you have an opinion, please comment about it!


	14. wake me up (can't wake up)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tw: this chapter deals with how consent works in my mirror universe. My opinion is that they do understand consent (albeit in a twisted, violent way) so the flashback isn't too bad, but there is mention of attempted sexual assault. also gore. Nothing is explicit or heavily described.
> 
> The way uhura acts is based of of my reaction to predatory men being around my friends. I get hyper protective and vigilant, so that's how Uhura acts this chapter.

\-------------

 

McCoy greets them when they walk into sickbay. He's twisting his hands nervously. 

 

“You sure you want to talk to them again, ensign?”

 

“Yes, doctor. I can't sit by and let his mind slip away.”

 

“Well, if you're sure, go on in. I'll be in with a couple security guards in a couple minutes. I want backup just in case.”

 

Chekov nods at him and heads towards the door. Uhura follows him, trailing further and further behind as they get closer. He notices her hesitation and stops before the doors sense him and slide open.

 

“Uhura? Are you okay?”

 

She frowns at the floor, doesn't speak for a moment.

 

“He doesn't deserve this. You putting yourself in danger for him.”

 

“He's a person, if I can help him, shouldn't I?”

 

“No! He's a dangerous, and—”

 

She cuts off suddenly and turns away from him. She smooths out her skit, clenches her hands into fists at her sides, then turns back to him. She smiles a fake smile that doesn’t reach her eyes and waves him forwards.

 

“Come on, let’s get this over with.”

 

This is obviously something they need to talk about, work through, but now isn’t the time, so he takes the opportunity she’s giving him. He walks through the door first, Uhura a step behind him. As soon as they’ve entered, his alternate’s head snaps up. 

 

Uhura watches as they focus in on each other. It’s like having two aggressive dogs spot each other across the street. They stare, never breaking eye contact. The tension is the room ratchets up; if the alternate Chekov wasn't strapped down she has no doubt they would be circling each other. 

 

She’s wondering how to defuse this, and if she even wants to, when the alternate chekov looks away. It’s a small movement, but in the tense atmosphere it’s as meaningful as a dog tucking its tail between its legs. 

 

It boosts Chekov’s confidence; he stands up straighter and strides towards alternate sulu’s bed. The alternate Chekov, surprisingly doesn't say anything. 

 

Chekov ends up next to alternate sulu's head. He stops and turns to look at alternate Chekov.

 

“So. What should I do now?”

 

Alternate Chekov takes the question addressed to him as an invitation to speak. 

 

“Just talk to him.”

 

Chekov glares at his mirror self.

 

“What useful advice you give.”

 

The alternate Chekov’s lip curls but he doesn't snipe back, just stays quiet.

 

Chekov turns back to the unconscious alternate. He hesitates a moment, then leans closer. 

 

“Sulu? Can you hear me?”

 

The alternate Chekov interrupts:

 

“Don't call him that. I call him Hikaru.”

 

Uhura can see Chekov twitch, but he doesn't argue.

 

“Hikaru? It's me, Chekov. Can you hear me?”

 

Nothing changes. Chekov doesn't seem affected.

 

“I know that you're hurting, your mind has been invaded and injured. But you're safe now, please come back to me. Please, Hikaru, wake up.”

 

No movement, not even a twitch. Uhura tries not to feel relieved. Chekov sighs and pulls back. He's never been the most patient. He seems ready to give up when his doppleganger speaks up again.

 

“Don't just talk for a second and then give up, you're going to have to talk for a while! And contact will help too. Don't just hover, touch him!”

 

Chekov glares at him and Uhura wonders if should just pull him out of the room and have this alternate Sulu stuff over with. Before she can make a decision, McCoy comes through the door, trailed by three security guards.

 

Chekov leans back over the alternate Sulu and slowly takes his hand. Uhura has to hold herself back; all she wants to do is rip the alternate’s hand out of Chekov's and pull him away to where he's safe.

 

Chekov keeps up a constant stream of words; at first meaningless pleading, then just nonsense about how his day is going or what he's working on. The security guards grow bored and restless.

 

Finally, Chekov gets irritated and flops down in the chair next to the bed, still holding the alternate’s hand. He snarls at the unconscious doppleganger:

 

“Wake up you hard headed idiot!”

 

The unconscious alternate twitches. The security guards jump, suddenly standing at attention. McCoy raises his head from his work. Uhura flinches and steps closer to Chekov, ready to protect him if need be.

 

The alternate Chekov laughs, a rough, caustic sound that grates on uhura’s already frayed nerves.

 

“He's never been one for sappiness.”

 

Chekov leans back in, digging his fingernails into the alternate sulu’s palm, and snarls:

 

“Come on, I said wake up!”

 

Then the alternate jerks, like a horror movie monster come to life. Uhura is halfway to Chekov’s side when the alternate’s momentum is stopped by the straps. 

 

He collapses back onto the table, so Uhura slows her rush and just stands by Cheko’s side rather than tearing him away.

 

_ At least it worked; alternate Sulu is awake. Maybe now we can get out of here.  _

 

Being in the same room as the alternate Sulu is like being trapped in a room with a large, venomous spider. She knows it's there, she know it's dangerous, but she can't get away from it, so she's stuck staring at it, waiting for it to strike.

 

The doppelganger groans, head falling to the side, eyes darting across the room. A moment later, he looks up to see Chekov leaning over him. He goes from scared to happy. He smiles, frighteningly familiar to how he leered at her on the bridge, and croons:

 

“Pasha~”

 

Hearing her pet name coming from his mouth fills her with rage. She grits her teeth and buries her nails in her own palms, trying not to lash out.

 

Even worse, Chekov blushes. He seems flattered by the syrupy tone and close attention. She’s known about his crush on Sulu, everyone on the damn ship knows but Sulu himself, but this is a really bad time for that crush to resurface.

 

She feels like a mother whose child has just seen the meanest dog in the shop and fallen in love with it:  _ no honey you can have any one but that one, look this sulu is nice and loves plants, isn’t he better? _

 

The alternate Sulu shifts their hand hold, interlacing their fingers. He coos again and pushes himself up as if he’s about to reach out and touch Chekov.

 

Uhura snaps. She swats him down with a flat palmed slap, straight on top of his sternum, where she knows it’ll hurt the most. He slams into the bed again, the breath knocked out of him. She speaks,voice as cold as space:

 

“Don’t touch him.”

 

She doesn’t expect him to listen; as far as she’s concerned, he’s a predator.

 

But he does. He goes limp and unthreatening on the bed, eyes wide with shock.

 

“Yes, ma’am.”

 

From the bed next to them, Chekov snorts and jeers:

 

“You never did know when to turn off the charm, did you?”

 

\-----------------

 

_ Consent isn’t taught, but it is learned. Any person worth the air they breath knows how to defend themself; touching without permission is asking to get your limbs chopped off. Still, there are some people, overconfident or lust blind, who try it. _

 

_ Pavel learned when he was still in school. He had a math teacher, with long legs and pretty eyes. One day, the principal pulled him close. An instant later, the principal's hand was on the floor, twitching and bleeding. _

 

_ Of course, the teacher showed up dead in a ditch a couple days later; that’s when Pavel learned that being skilled wasn’t enough, one had to be smart as well. _

 

_ Pavel, of course, was an easy target, with his small frame and pretty face. But it only took the enterprise crew two incidents to realize that he was not to be touched. _

 

_ The first incident was a big security guard, who thought his large shoulders and strong arms would be sufficient to protect him from Pavel’s wrath. Pavel castrates him and walks behind him as he runs, bleeding and screaming, to sickbay.  _

 

_ The second was a young woman who didn’t even have any sexual intent; but she patted him on the shoulder without consent.  _

 

_ Letting it go would have invited more people to try, whether they were just trying to be chummy or if they had more unsavory intent. He only cuts off two of her fingers, and he makes sure it’s on her bad hand. _

 

_ Hikaru understands consent just fine; he did court Pavel, after all. When the wrong-Uhura slaps him down, Hikaru hears the warning loud and clear. _

 

_ \----------- _

 

Even though Hikaru listens to the warning, stops reaching out or even moving at all, the wrong-Uhura takes the wrong Chekov away. Pavel isn't sad to see him go. 

 

The doctor takes his place at Hikaru's bed, running a scanner over him and taking notes. After a few minutes, he pronounces Hikaru perfectly healthy.

 

Then, he lets them up to move around and use the refresher. The security guards watch them the whole time, but Pavel is thankful for the small amount of freedom. It's not a privilege that the soft crew had to give them.

 

Hikaru bumps him with his hip as he’s washing his hands. When Pavel turns around, he’s pulled into a hug. Hikaru holds him tight, with the desperation that they’ve both been feeling.

 

But the hug has a second purpose as well: Hikaru presses his mouth to Pavel’s ear and whispers:

 

“Pasha. What the hell do we do now.”

 

The way they’re embracing, the guards can’t see hikaru speaking. Pavel feels a swell of pride; it seems Hikaru has been learning how to strategize. Pavel shifts them, so that he’s leaning into Hikaru, and whispers back.

 

“Hikaru, I’ve been watching them while you were unconscious, and I think they actually do want to help us.”

 

Hikaru scoffs.

 

“The doctor operated on me, just so that I could be more comfortable. He fixed my rib, I can breathe better now. And he didn’t hurt me unessecarily at all, he even let me stay conscious because I asked him to. 

 

We need to go along with what they ask us to do, take advantage of their softness. The first thing they asked us to do is pick new names so they can tell us apart from our clones.”

 

Hikaru sighs.

 

“I’ll think about what name I want. I’ll follow your lead on this, Pasha.”

 

“Good.”

 

Pavel pulls away and starts to leave the room. Before he leaves fully, Hikaru calls after him:

 

“Pasha.”

 

Pavel turns back to look at him. His face is glowing with that happy light again, softening his features in a way that Pavel hadn’t seen before all this happened.

 

“I’m glad you’re okay.”

 

Pavel nods, that strange, bubbly warmth growing in his chest again. He turns away and flees into the main room, fear growing.

 

_ Hikaru acting so soft...is this world affecting him? Is it affecting me? I’m saying we should be content, be submissive, rather than fight...maybe I am getting soft. _

 

Pavel avoid Hikaru until the time comes when they have to be strapped down again. The ship’s environmental lights are dimming: night shift is beginning. The doctor ties them back down and tells them to get some rest.

  
Despite the irritation of being restrained, Pavel falls asleep easily. He's emotionally and physically exhausted. He slips peacefully into a deep sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is really my explanation of how the mirror sulu/uhura problem is going to be resolved. My mirror sulu wouldn't force himself on anyone, but he definitely acted predatory on the bridge in the tos episode, so I'm not trying to excuse that. However, it think you have to remember specifically what Uhura told him was that "the rules of the game is that she pushes him away and he comes back". However, Uhura will continue to be uncomfortable around him for obvious reasons. But just understand that both mirror chekov and mirror sulu have a basic understanding of consent, and that will grow as they learn more from the nice enterprise crew. Eventually, Uhura and mirror sulu will be back on good terms.


	15. geek out time

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just butchered science. The laws of physics are coming to kill me for this chapter. Srsly tho, please don't listen to anything science I say in here. I do physics sometimes but I'm also 99% sure that nothing I say in here is right.

\-------

As usual, Pavel wakes up first. As soon as the lights begin to turn on, dim at first to simulate dawn, he's awake. It's an old habit, waking up with the sun, ingrained in him after spending his childhood on a farm. Even if it is a fake sunrise.

 

Hikaru sleeps late when he can; he won't be awake for at least a couple hours. There's barely any noise outside of their room, so apparently this sickbay sleeps in as well.

 

Pavel resigns himself to a long stretch of boredom. He's good at waiting, at staying perfectly still and silent. He learned it as a survival skill when he was younger and he turned it into a strategy when he joined the imperial fleet.

 

You'd be surprised how little attention people pay to you if you're quiet and still. You don't really register, and he turns that to his advantage. He becomes the snake in the grass, waiting for its prey.

 

But boredom without a purpose is harder to tolerate. And he's restrained; that makes staying still more irritating solely because he's forced to. He gets twitchy after an hour, begins straining against the restraints.

 

He doesn't expect them to give, he isn't trying to escape. He's just frustrated, and needs something to do.

 

Apparently, someone took notice of his movement; a redshirt comes through the door. Pavel prepares to explain himself to the security guard, only to freeze.

 

This redshirt isn't part of security, which is lucky; he's not in trouble. But he is Mr. Scott, chief engineer, which is very confusing.

 

_ Why would he be here? _

 

He knows this isn’t his Scotty, but it’s hard to shake off a lifetime of carefully learned expectations. If this Scotty is anything like their own, he wouldn’t be here unless he absolutely had to be.

 

Montgomery Scott was a genius engineer, the best in the empire. Unfortunately for those who shared the Enterprise with him, he wasn’t very concerned with how safe his inventions were. He created them because he could, and they worked, but they had a bad habit of exploding mid-use. 

 

As a result, he ruled the engineering department from a safe, separate control room. He kept the ship running, and kept his own power, by maintaining a loyal web of followers. He is rarely seen out of engineering, and most of the ship is glad of that. He looks upon people as disposable, as inferior to his machines.

 

Even knowing that this Scotty is probably softer than his own, Pavel can’t think of any reason why he would be here. Like everything else in this wrong-world, it sets him on edge.He wishes Hikaru was awake; everything is easier to face with him at his side. 

 

He keeps a close eye on the engineer as he walks into the room with slow, hesitant steps.Scotty scans the room and notices Pavel staring at him. He jumps and stutters a little, before turning to face Pavel fully.

 

“Hello there! You haven’t met me yet but, um, I’m Mr. Scott, chief engineer.”

 

Pavel glares. The apparent timidity of the man isn’t fooling him.

 

“I know who you are. We had one of you in our world.”

 

Scotty laughs nervously and fiddles with something behind his back. Pavel tenses; he can’t see what it is.

 

_ A knife? A phaser? Why would he want to hurt us? _

 

“That was sort of a stupid thing to say, wasn’t it?”

 

Pavel glares at him. He’s not going to make small talk with a man holding a weapon behind his back. It would be the safe thing to do, but he’s tired of these strange people, he’s tired of constantly being confused, he’s tired of having the rug pulled out from under him.

 

The man fidgets, rubbing at the back of his neck with the hand not holding the weapon.

 

“Well, since you know I am and I know who you are, I guess I’ll just get to the point.”

 

He pulls the weapon out from behind his back. Pavel flinches, ready for a phaser bolt.

 

It's a piece of burnt, blackened wire.

 

_ What? _

 

“The damn transporter burnt out. That's what trapped you here. It was a simple mistake, routine maintenance check would have found it. But I postponed the check for the mission. It's my fault that you're here, I'm sorry.”

 

_ Who is this stranger? He's nothing like our Scotty. He's...apologizing for something that was the universe’s fault. _

 

_ How do I reply to that? _

 

“It's alright?”

 

The wrong-Scott grins a toothy grin of relief. 

 

“Ach, thank you lad! You wouldn't believe how guilty I've been feeling the last few days!”

 

Pavel shakes his head in confusion. This Scott is either acting like, or actually is, a kind, earnest person. He's smiling at Pavel, bright like a gentle spring sun.

 

Dealing with kind people is  _ so  _ confusing.

 

_ Well, at least he didn't stab or shoot me. _

 

“Are ye alright? You're staring at me.”

 

Pavel is, once again, caught off guard.

 

“I'm sorry, you're just so different from ours.”

 

The Scott returns to his kindly state and nods with a knowing smirk.

 

“Aye, that was quite a nasty universe you got there, no offense.”

 

Pavel sneers.

 

_ I can see how such soft people would be frightened by our glorious empire. _

 

“No offense taken.”

 

“Ah, you're not so bad, laddie! Say, I never did get a chance to see your ship’s engineering section, would you be able to tell me anything about it? I'm sure our universes has some technological differences.”

 

Anything other than the boredom, even if this Scotty is freaky as all hell. 

 

“I can't exactly tell you anything without knowing your technology. I need something to compare my enterprise with.”

 

The engineer lurches forwards, startling Pavel. He begins wrestling a computer out of the wall, arranging so that it sits on front of Pavel. He moves so quickly, with so much life, it's like he's a machine himself, brimming with electricity. 

 

He taps on the screen, bringing up a blueprint. Pavel leans in to take a look, curiosity piqued. It's the Enterprise, but different. He swipes at the screen and the blueprint rotates, letting him look at the ship from all sides.

 

It's bulky, and symmetrical, all curves. It looks beautiful, in a strange way, but ships aren't meant to be beautiful. They're meant to be deadly.

 

“Well the first thing I notice is that your Enterprise is much less aerodynamic.”

 

“What do you mean? We're in space, there isn't any way to be aerodynamic.”

 

Pavel sighs. Apparently, this Scott thinks very linearly.

 

“You're not always in space, are you? Sometimes you're in orbit. And in orbit, gravity affects the ship, right?”

 

“Well, yes, but gravity isn't the same thing as aerodynamics.”

 

“Okay. When you look at a planet, gravity gets weaker towards space and stronger towards the planet. So when you're in orbit, one side of the ship experiences less pull from gravity than the other.

 

So, if you bulk up the nacelle that's farther away from the planet, then it helps balance out the pull.”

 

“It would, but we have stabilizers for that.”

 

“If you build your ship asymmetrically, then you have to use the stabilizers less, which puts less strain on the engines. Isn't that a good thing?”

 

“Aye, I guess it would be.”

 

“Whether you agree with the concept or not, that's how our ships are designed. One of the nacelles is heavier and bigger than the other. Though, that does mean you have to make sure your helmsman matches up with the ship.

 

Hikaru is right handed, so he pulls into orbit with the left nacelle facing the planet. So, he fits the enterprise because its right nacelle is larger than the left.”

 

“I'll have to think on that, none of us have ever considered aerodynamics in space, it's very counterintuitive.”

 

Pavel takes a closer look at the nacelles. They're a lot larger, and the body of the ship is smaller.

 

“Can you zoom in on the engines?”

 

“Sure, laddie.”

 

He swipes at the screen, spinning the model and focusing on the engines. The blueprint zooms in, the complex innards of the nacelles showing through. 

 

“Huh. It looks like your lightspeed engines are a lot bigger and your sublight engines are a lot smaller.”

 

“Of course! We have to cover a lot of ground, we use the lightspeed engines less than the impulse engines. We are an exploratory ship, after all.”

 

Pavel tries very hard not to laugh in his face. The Enterprise, the pride of the imperial fleet, the deadliest of Earth’s starships, an exploratory ship?

 

“Your engines were different?”

 

“Yes. The lightspeed engines were greatly reduced; we didn't need them as much. The empire is split into sectors, so that ships can easily patrol their sectors without having to rush across large sections of space.

 

We only really ever use our lightspeed engines in an emergency, or when the fleet is called together for a major attack.

 

But our sublight engines are a lot more powerful, we need impulse power for patrols and battle. Our ships are probably more maneuverable than yours.”

 

Scott is staring at him in wonder. Pavel shifts, uncomfortable under his intense stare.

 

“Amazing. A star fleet built for a completely different purpose. Do you think you could maybe draw me out a diagram of your Enterprise?”

 

“If you can convince the doctor to take the restraints off, yes.”

 

“I'll talk to him about it. But I can’t right away, the Captain needs me on the landing party. For now, why don't you look through the ship’s library? Everything we know is in that computer.”

 

He taps on the screen, minimizing the blueprint and opening up a table of contents.

 

“You're letting me learn the ship? And anything you know?”

 

The Scott smiles gently at him and pats him on the shoulder.

 

“There's not much else for you to do, is there? The computer is turned to voice activation, have fun!”

 

The engineer leaves the room with a spring in his step. Pavel shakes his head, half confused, half amused, by the pleasant conversation with the man. He’s grateful, though, that he’s been given something to do, something to fight back the boredom.

 

He’s learned pretty much the entire layout of the Enterprise by the time Hikaru wakes up. It’s always good to know your surroundings, and if they intend to take over the ship, they’ll need to know it from top to bottom.

 

Hikaru groans and stretches as far as he can in the restraints. It’s a happy, satisfied groan that Pavel knows well from their lazy sunday mornings together. Sleeping in always puts him in a good mood.

 

Once Hikaru notices the computer, Pavel offers to read to him. If they could get a computer pulled out for Hikaru as well, then they could do their own separate reading. But, for now, they only have one computer, so Pavel is going to have to help Hikaru entertain himself.

 

He pulls up the latest botany report from a planet this Enterprise visited a day ago. Despite the dry, scientific tone it’s written in, Hikaru enjoys it immensely.

 

About halfway through the report, Nurse Chapel comes in with a pair of security guards to release them from the restraints. They get to shower, stretch their legs, eat breakfast. After she ties them back down, Pavel continues reading to Hikaru. She’d pulled the computer out for him when Pavel asked, but he’s enjoying reading to Hikaru.

  
All in all, it’s been a much more pleasant morning than expected.


	16. it was bound to happen eventually

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> last chapter was fluffy, so this one of course has to be sad. 
> 
> But really, mirror sulu and chekov have been in the mirror universe too long to switch over quickly. This is the inevitable backlash when they realize they might want to be "soft".
> 
> tw for a bit of self harm, nothing graphic

\---------

Pavel has just finished the report when the alarms go off. It's the familiar wail of a red alert. He and Hikaru are instantly on alert, even though it's not their ship to defend.

 

A moment later, the ship lurches. They're thrown against the restraints painfully. Outside, they can hear glass breaking and McCoy shouting irritably.

 

Hikaru grins at Pavel; battle puts him in an even better mood than sleeping in does. Pavel, on the other hand, finds the ship lurching about while he’s helpless distasteful.

 

But, maybe, they can get free in the commotion. He knows the layout of the ship, he knows where the auxiliary control room is. They could take over the ship if they wanted.

 

_ But do I want to? _

 

_ What kind of soft thought is that? Why would I turn away from my weakened enemy? This universe, it must be affecting us, making me think soft.  _

 

_ I won't let this happen. I am a navigator of the Terran empire. I will not forget that. _

 

_ If I can't return home, then I will make one here. _

 

The shouting outside gets louder, more frantic. McCoy bursts through the doors, followed by a huddle of redshirts. They're carrying someone; a gold shirt. 

 

The ship lurches again, sending McCoy falling into a bed. The redshirts stumble, nearly dropping their cargo. Pavel can see the person’s face, bloody and pale. It's Captain Kirk.

 

He's got a nasty burn on his side and a set of scratches across his face. McCoy yells at the redshirts, rushing them to lift the captain onto the bed. As soon as he’s on it, McCoy begins scanning him.

 

Nurse Chapel runs into the room, carrying a tray of equipment. The redshirts back off, leave the room. Hikaru is eagerly watching the commotion. It's either because he's bored or because he’s enjoying Kirk’s suffering. It could go either way, really.

 

As the doctors work, the life signs begin to rise. Kirk stirs, looks around. McCoy snarls down at him, even as he's working on the burn.

 

“What happened, Jim?”

 

Kirk groans, rubs at his face. Dried blood flakes off at the touch.

 

“Turns out our sensors don't read sentient machines as life forms. The entire planet was filled with them, some sort of naturally occurring robotic species. And let's just say they weren't friendly.”

 

“Dammit Jim, isn't this why you bring guards along?”

 

“Hey, when your phasers don't have any effect, it's a little hard to fight.”

 

The doctor huffs.

 

“They're trained in hand to hand, aren't they?”

 

Kirk gives him an incredulous look.

 

“Bones, have you ever tried punching solid metal?”

 

That leaves the doctor speechless. Hikaru laughs, loud and harsh. It startles everyone in the room. The doctor smiles nervously at Hikaru and turns back to his work. 

 

_ It seems they forgot we were here. That’s good; if they’re not paying a lot of attention to us, it will be easier to escape. _

 

The doctor finishes healing Kirk’s wounds and pushes everyone out of the room so that he can rest. Hikaru and Pavel watch as he falls asleep, eyes drifting shut. The ship stops lurching around; whatever was attacking them must have been destroyed.

 

Once he’s sure that Kirk is deeply asleep, Pavel begins to tug at the restraint. With enough force, he manages to pull his hand through the loop. The fact that he has to dislocate his thumb to do so is unimportant.

 

He hisses at the pain. He can’t move his thumb and some of his fingers. But his hand is free, and is still intact enough to undo the strap on his other arm. Hikaru watches him, simultaneously concerned and impressed.

 

Pavel undoes the foot straps and hops off the bed, basking in his freedom. Then, he rushes to Hikaru’s bed and undoes his restraints as well.

 

Hikaru sits up sinuously and stretches like a cat. Before Pavel leaves his side, Hikaru leans against him and pulls him into a kiss. It's desperate, but soft at the same time. Pavel lets his eyes fall shut, warmth spreading through him.

 

Hikaru pulls away and smiles at him. 

 

“I never should have called you soft, Pasha. You're the most determined man I've ever met.”

 

Pavel smirks at him, the pain in his hand lessening under the praise. 

 

“Well, keep watching, sweetheart. You haven't seen anything yet.”

 

He stalks towards Kirk’s bed, hips swaying. He can feel Hikaru’s eyes on him, watching appreciatively.

 

The medical team got smart and removed the medical equipment after he stabbed McCoy, but he’s confident his hands can do the job.

 

Before he makes it to Kirk’s side, Hikaru rips off one of the restraints from his bed and holds it out to Pavel. It's the perfect garrote: a long, tough strip of fabric.

 

“Awww, you always know exactly what to get me!”

 

Hikaru drops it into his good palm, laughing.

 

“Only the best for you, love.”

 

Pavel resumes his approach. He moves quietly, carefully, and Kirk remains unaware of the predator leaning over his bed. Pavel grins, bloodlust filling himself and making him feel strong again.

 

He pushes the captain off of the bed. Kirk yelps, hitting the ground hard. Before he can get up, Pavel is on him, pinning him to the floor and getting the strap around his neck. It’s more difficult with only one hand, but he manages

 

Kirk chokes and thrashes. Pavel curses, trying to stay on top of him, despite the captain’s superior body weight. Hikaru steps in and kicks him in the stomach, leaving him breathless and still.

 

“Thanks.”

 

Pavel lets the captain catch his breath, then pulls the garrote tight. He wheezes, panicked eyes flitting from Pavel to Hikaru and back again.

 

“Stay still, captain, and I won't pull this any tighter.”

 

The captain's initial yelp must have alerted the doctor; he rushes in with Nurse Chapel at his side. They freeze when they see Kirk at Pavel’s mercy. Hikaru moves to Pavel’s side, easily falling back into the physical intimidation role.

 

Pavel smiles at McCoy, enjoying the fear on his face.

 

_ Now you know how it is to have your consort near death and be helpless to help him. _

 

“Hello again, doctor. The captain seems to have recovered quite well; your medical skill continues to impress.”

 

McCoy turns angry, blue eyes cold. Pavel has to try very hard not to shrink back; that look on their McCoy promised a painful death.

 

“Let Captain Kirk go.”

 

“Ah, I could do that. But then we'd be tied down again, helpless, with no future ahead of us. Or…”

 

He lets Kirk sink forwards with a groan, twisting the garrote a little tighter.

 

“I could get out of here and build something of my own.”

 

McCoy snarls sarcastically:

 

“So, you're trying to tell me all you want to do is go live out the rest of your life peacefully? And I'm supposed to believe that? After you stab me and strangle my captain?”

 

“Oh, I never said I wanted to live peacefully. Back up, or I'll kill your captain.”

 

McCoy’s face crumples as he and Nurse Chapel back out of the room. He and Hikaru follow, dragging Kirk along.

 

_ So nice of them to put such a valuable hostage in the same room as us. _

 

Pavel can feel Hikaru's pride radiating off of him. It's flattering, that his consort finds his skill so impressive. Most people in the empire don't appreciate his special, subtle style.

 

He learned from a good teacher.

 

His mother was a weapon, an elite assassin of the empire. It's too honorable a profession to kill her when she burnt out, so they gave her a little, secluded cottage and locked her away in it.

 

Pavel went with her. Of course he did; his father is off world, and far too important to be bothered with a child. And if his mother is violent, well that's not the empire’s concern.

 

In the moments when she’s lucid, almost reasonable, she teaches him all that she knows. Some part of her that still thinks of the future wants him to become an assassin like her. She doesn't teach him often enough for him to actually become one, but he learns and remembers and uses what she taught him.

 

He's an imperial assassin in practice, but not in name. That's okay with him; he saw what happened to her. It's too high profile of a job for his taste anyways.

 

But he's still immensely skilled, and he spots the ambush before they even step through the door into the main room of sick bay. Security guards try to jump them as they come through.

 

At the first sign of movement, Pavel twists the garrote viciously. Kirk collapses, out of the fight, and sure to be there when Pavel comes back for him. He dodges a blow and kicks the attacker in the knee, and then again in the face when they fall. He’s trying not to punch; he doesn't want to accidentally use his broken hand.

 

Next to him, Hikaru hollers with glee and sends a pair of guards flying. He absorbs a punch from the alien behind him, and smashes its face into the wall. In a few short moments, the security team is defeated.

 

They weren't using phasers; it's nice having a high ranking hostage. The doctor and the nurse fled into a different room during the fight. Pavel ignores them; they're not important. He pushes Hikaru towards the door out of sickbay and grabs the captain.

 

They make it into the hallway. A couple of guards jump and shout at their appearance but Hikaru takes them out before they can draw their phasers.

 

Pavel closes his eyes, trying to remember the best route to the auxiliary control room. Hikaru speaks up:

 

“Pasha, I'm not doubting you, but what's the plan?”

 

“We're going to try to make it to the auxiliary control room. From there, we might be able to take control of the enterprise from them.”

 

They start making their way through the hallways. Hikaru has picked up the guard’s phasers; Pavel holds one to Kirk’s head while Hikaru menaces anyone they pass by. 

 

Hikaru keeps his on stun, Pavel clicks his over to kill. More redshirts begin following them, staying far enough away that he doesn't feel the need to shoot the captain.

 

A turbolift opens. The tall form of Spock stalks out. Hikaru freezes and whispers:

 

“Pasha…”

 

“I know. I'll take care of him.”

 

Spock can easily brain blast them into unconsciousness; Pavel needs something to convince him not to.

 

He grinds the barrel of the phaser into Kirk’s head and turns it so that Spock can see that it's set to kill. He knows the Vulcan has seen it; his face twitches slightly.

 

“You stay right there, Spock. I'll bet I can pull this trigger quicker than you can stop me.”

 

The Vulcan slows his pace until he's joined the group of redshirts. He's glaring, but doesn't make any aggressive moves. Pavel is busy staring at their pursuers when Kirk starts to twitch again.

 

The captain comes back to consciousness with a groan. His eyes snap open and he stares at Pavel, a mixture of panic and anger. Pavel pulls the garrote a little tighter, cutting Kirk off as he tries to speak.

 

They've finally made it to the auxiliary control room. The redshirts gain a new urgency, shifting nervously. Hikaru waves the door open. Pavel darts into the room after him.

 

Hikaru knocks out the gold shirt sitting at the station. They stand in the tiny room, staring at it in astonishment.

 

“Did that actually work?”

 

Pavel frowns. 

 

“That was too easy. There must be a trick somewhere.”

 

Kirk chooses that moment to speak up, gasping:

 

“Chekov! Don't do this.”

 

His voice is wrecked from the damage done to his throat. Pavel snarls at him and clubs him with his phaser, shutting him up.

 

Hikaru has taken the seat and is looking over the control boards. He’s humming, a happy little tune. If it were anyone other than him, Pavel would be worried that they wouldn't be able to figure out how to fly the unfamiliar ship.

 

He finds the main controls and sends the ship swerving to the side. Pavel’s about to congratulate him when a red light begins beeping on the board. The ship jerks itself back to its original course.

 

The computer chirps and speaks in a pleasant, tinny voice:

 

“Conflicting commands, please input command code to validate your course.”

 

“They have a failsafe. Of course they do. And we don't have the code.”

 

Pavel curses. 

 

“I'm sorry Hikaru. I didn't think about that.”

 

“Hey, it's not your fault. It was a rushed plan anyways.”

 

“They'll be coming for us.”

 

“We still have their captain.”

 

“Should we just shoot him?”

 

“No, then we don't have anything to bargain with.”

 

“We can't hold them off for long; they can just starve us out.”

 

“Well, we can make ourselves a real pain in their asses.”

 

Pavel laughs; Hikaru always manages to make a bad situation better. He shoves Kirk into a corner, tying his arms to the railing with the strap. 

 

He almost wants to kill him out of spite, but he knows that will bring the wrath of Spock and McCoy down upon them. Escaping would have earned them enough ill will already.

 

He and Hikaru crouch down behind the console; they've probably gotten desperate enough to come in guns blazing. Sure enough, the door opens and a hail of phaser fire comes through.

 

They can't hit them as long as they stay behind the console, so, eventually they'll have to send people in. After a few, ineffective waves of stun blasts, a group of redshirts come barreling in the door.

 

Pavel and Hikaru rise to greet them with a morbid glee. A phaser shot burns past Pavel as Hikaru knocks the phasers out of their hands. Hikaru punches one in the face and the other in the stomach.

 

A stray stun blast comes in the door and hits him. He collapses, falling on top of the guards he'd knocked out. Pavel screams in helpless rage and punches the last redshirt in the throat.

 

Another pair rush in. He kicks the phasers out of their hands. It's too close of quarters for the guns to really be effective, so he doesn't bother picking one up. He kicks one of the redshirts in the chest, hard enough that something snaps, and gets his good arm around the other’s throat.

  
Before their bodies hit the ground, more redshirts take their place. Pavel dodges a punch and jumps away from them, but he doesn’t manage to dodge the phaser blast. There’s the familiar burn of a stun blast and his world goes dark.


	17. mourning from a universe away

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everyone! I know it's been awhile since I've updated this story, I'm very sorry about that. But my APs are over and I only have a few weeks of school left, so I should be able to get back to updating regularly soon.
> 
> This chapter is kind of off topic, but I read somewhere that in the mirror universe the vulcans are essentially opressed, so I felt the need to address that.
> 
> tw: mostly vague references to torture, trauma and slavery

\------

Once again, Pavel jerks awake before he should. That resistance to stun blasts really is a handy thing to have.

 

He's being carried by a pair of security guards, one holding him under the arms and the other under the knees. He swings his elbow into the one holding him under his arms. 

 

The redshirt has the breath knocked out of him and drops Pavel. He stops his fall with his arms and kicks the hands holding onto his feet in the face before they can react. His limbs are free, so he throws himself up and braces for the next attacker.

 

It's not a guard, it's Spock. Pavel kicks the phaser out of his hand. The pair of guards behind Spock have their hands full with Hikaru, unable to assist the Vulcan.

 

But of course, Spock doesn't need phasers or redshirts to take Pavel down. He can turn his brain to mush any moment. Pavel, never one to give up in the face of impossible odds, lashes out at Spock.

 

The Vulcan blocks it and reaches out for Pavel. He flinches back, waiting for the pain to start. It doesn't, but Spock’s hand lands on his shoulder. Then, without warning, his world goes dark for the second time.

 

_ \--------- _

 

Spock takes a step back, trying to even out his breathing. A nerve pinch can often be a stressful experience, as his touch telepathy allows him to feel everything the victim is thinking in the instant before it takes effect.

 

The rush of emotions is never pleasant, but this one was especially unsettling. He'd been in inside the alternate’s head before, so he knows how wild and sharp the man's mind is. 

 

But the doppleganger also had a clear idea of what was happening. Most don't, not knowing about the Vulcan neck pinch, so confusion clouds their minds and keeps their thoughts from traveling to Spock. But the alternate had a clear thought in mind, albeit a wrong one.

 

Kirk trots toward them, concerned.

 

“You okay, Spock?”

 

“I have just experienced something very strange, captain.”

 

That only makes Jim look more upset.

 

“Good strange? Or bad strange?”

 

“Decidedly bad, though informative. When I subdued the alternate, I learned the true extent of my alternate self’s telepathic powers.”

 

“And that's bad because…”

 

“He was able to telepathically affect people without touching them.”

 

“No offense, but that sounds kinda useful.”

 

“Perhaps. But there is a reason why we are touch telepaths. It is natural for us. For a Vulcan to not need touch...their emotions would have to be immensely powerful. They could not possibly be healthy. 

 

They would have had to have been made into that, captain. We occasionally see touchless telepathy here, but only in causes of extreme trauma. Someone purposely twisted and tormented my alternate until his trauma response became a weapon. 

 

A Vulcan that powerful in touchless telepathy would be an agonized mess of emotions. If that is the fate of my alternate self, what has become of the rest of the alternate Vulcan?

 

You can understand why, captain, this would be difficult information to process.”

 

Jim's face clearly shows that he does understand the gravity of the situation. He looks horrified and guilty over his previous flippancy.

 

“I'm sorry, Spock. If you need to take this shift off, meditate or think through things, you're welcome to do so.”

 

“No, thank you, Captain. I would like to continue to assist with the alternates, and with your permission, I would like to ask them some questions.”

 

“Of course, Spock.”

 

\---------

 

Hikaru wakes up slowly, shaking his head to try and get the buzzing of a stun blast out of his head. Once he feels well enough to open his eyes, he finds himself staring at Spock.

 

The Vulcan stares at him for a long moment. Hikaru maintains eye contact and tries to figure out what reason the Vulcan might have for watching them sleep.

 

_ Oh, yeah. Escape attempt. That would be why. _

 

Spock finally breaks the silence and speaks:

 

“Tell me the history of Vulcan.”

 

Hikaru’s first instinct is to tell him to fuck off and go back to sleep. Then he remembers last time he refused Spock: he ended up in a coma. Still, he can't resist sneering at him.

 

“Why the sudden interest in history?”

 

The Vulcan steps forwards and looms threateningly.

 

_ Let's not push too far. _

 

“Okay, okay! What do you want to know?”

 

“Tell me how your Vulcan joined the Terran empire.”

 

“Well, when our first scouts discovered Vulcan, you guys were all peaceful and soft. So we sent a diplomatic group as a distraction and sent the army in after you had accepted us as friendly. You Vulcans are tough, but you weren't using your telepathy then, so we managed to defeat you. Lost alot of men though.”

 

“And what role do Vulcans play in the empire now?”

 

“Most of them are hard labor because you are stronger than most other conquered species, but the telepathically strong ones who get trained are allowed to enter the fleet.”

 

The Vulcan’s fists are clenched at his sides and Hikaru flinches back, suddenly doubting all this alternate universe bullshit. This is  _ Spock _ standing in front of him, rage filled, world-wraith, condescended to yet feared, first officer, captain’s enforcer spock. And Hikaru is just asking for his wrath.

 

The Vulcan moves, predator fast like usual. Hikaru is already flinching away bodily, waiting for the hit to land. Instead, the Vulcan’s fist smashes into the computer console next to him, crumpling it into a pile of bent, sparking metal. Hikaru gapes at it, adrenaline and terror filling him in a way it hasn’t in a long time. He knew Spock was dangerous, how could he not? But being reminded of the slow, mangling ways Spock could kill him with just his bare hands…

 

Then Spock steps away. He takes a deep breath, focuses on unclenching his hands. Hikaru watches nervously as he stretches out his long fingers, tendons twitching in his wrists, blood drying underneath his fingernails. The Vulcan straightens out his uniform shirt and looks Hikaru in the eye.

 

“Thank you for your time.”

 

And Spock leaves, quietly, calmly, without violence.

 

And Hikaru suddenly understands. In their world, everything is about concealing. Hide your feelings, hide your skills, hide your plans. But here it's all about control. The Vulcans here are no less violent than their Vulcans, they just keep it under control.

 

In fact, everyone here is expected to control themselves. They aren't allowed to maim or kill at will. They have to follow the rules, without taking the loopholes that the Terran empire built itself around.

 

It's like the last puzzle piece clicking into place. His worldview finally transferring over, letting him see this universe clearly for the first time. 

 

It's strangely freeing to think that this world is so straightforward, where rules are rules and not objects to work around. Here, things can move in straight lines, rather than twisting and turning and becoming a convoluted web.

 

_ Pavel is going to hate this. _

 

\--------

 

Spock has to hide in one of the empty rooms next to sickbay for a moment, carefully breathing and meditating. He has to get himself back under control before he goes out into the ship.

 

He braces himself against the wall, cold from the metal seeping through his shirt. His fingers tap a restless, uneven beat against the bulkhead. He closes his eyes, opens them, closes them, blinks carefully and regularly. He keeps his breath slow and measured, stilling his body and hoping that will still the storm inside his head.

 

Eventually, the emotions calm, swirling slower and slower. They don't disappear entirely, and he doesn't expect them to. This undercurrent of rage and pain will stay with him a long time. His entire planet, their kindness taken advantage of, its people enslaved and tortured, its resources drained to power an evil empire. No, the emotions from this will not fade quickly.

 

But they are under control. He is under control. He is a Vulcan. He is in control of his emotions.

 

He takes a last, bracing breath and steps back out into the light of the hallway. The captain had called a meeting to discuss the escape attempt. It started a couple of minutes ago but Spock isn't too late.

 

He strides through the hallways, rushing to the meeting room. The doors slide open and he can hear the conversation pause as he steps through. He fixes his eyes on the far wall, carefully avoiding the concerned eyes that turn to him.

 

He makes his way to the empty seat next to the head of the table where the captain sits. He takes his seat, sandwiched between Kirk and McCoy. Jim gives him a soft smile and speaks:

 

“Welcome back, Spock.”

 

Then he turns back to the table and continues the briefing. Spock is relieved that he doesn't ask after his well being, there's already enough attention on him to make him uncomfortable. Spock lets himself relax into the chair, focusing on Jim’s voice and letting everything else fall away.

 

“Bones, you spoke with them before the escape, correct?”

 

“Yes sir.”

 

“Did they give any explanation on reason for this attempt, other than bloodlust?”

 

“The alternate Chekov said something about getting out of the restraints, and wanting to build a future for themselves. I don't know how they planned to do that in a universe so different from their own.”

 

Kirk shifts, frowns at the table. 

 

“I don't imagine their version of the future would have been at all similar to ours. I don't see any way to let them have that future that they want.”

 

McCoy interrupts, blue eyes cold:

 

“Jim, you don't have to give them what they want. They probably don't even deserve it.”

 

Uhura jumps in:

 

“It's true, sir. They've murdered before and they will again, they should be locked away for everyone's safety!”

 

Spock considers that, tries to stay impartial. But he thinks of his alternate people, destroyed by these vicious humans, and struggles to fight down his anger.

 

Chekov speaks up, nervously glancing at Uhura.

 

“But Keptin! They are dangerous out of necessity. If you were trapped in an alternate universe, wouldn't you try to escape as well?”

 

This side, Spock can see as well. He remembers being in their heads, violent and angry and harsh but with sparks of good as well. He remembers their memories of  laughing together, picking flowers down on a planet’s surface, defending each other in battle. They are filled with hatred, but they are filled with love as well.

 

Uhura slams her hand down on the table. 

 

“Pavel! They kidnapped the captain, tried to take over the Enterprise, and nearly killed those security guards! What more do you need?”

 

Kirk smiles at her and holds out a placating hand.

 

“Uhura, I appreciate your input, and I understand your feelings. I’m finding it a little hard to be sympathetic after being dragged around and strangled. But Chekov has a point as well. We've been keeping them strapped to tables with very little time unrestrained. That's not right.”

 

Spock senses an emotional, self sacrificing, human reaction incoming. He decides to attempt cutting it off before it happens.

 

“Very well, we will move them back into the brig.”

 

Kirk shakes his head.

 

“We can't keep them in there for more than a few days.”

 

Bones senses the impending bad decision as well and leans forwards, glaring at the captain.

 

“Jim, you better not be thinking what I'm thinking.”

 

Jim smiles a cocky grin and announces:

 

“I'm going to move them into the quarters we prepared.”

 

There's a chorus of confusion and disapproval. Kirk waits a minute, then taps on the table to get their attention. 

 

“I understand your concerns, but I've made my decision. The doors will be permanently locked and guarded. No more incidents will happen.”

 

McCoy throws himself up, pushing his chair back with a screech.

 

“But Jim, You're practically rewarding them for breaking out and attacking you!”

 

“No, they will be punished. Their access to the library will be revoked. That's what they used to escape, correct?”

 

“Well, yes, but…”

 

“Well then, I think I've got all my bases covered.”

 

The room sighs in unison; once the captain gets an idea in his stubborn head, there's no getting it out without a fight.

  
“Yes sir.”


	18. kindness hurts sometimes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tw: slight violence, but really it's just playfighting. Some mentions of death
> 
> I'm still writing this story, I swear! I'm sorry about the slow updates!

\------

When the security guards come and take them out of sickbay, they don’t expect to be taken to the crew quarters. They are prodded through the halls, crewmembers’s curious eyes digging into them as they pass. 

 

Hikaru tries to think about what’s happening from this universe's perspective, put himself in their place so he can understand what’s happening. But it doesn’t work, he doesn’t think like them. The only reason he can think of for marching them through the crew quarters would be to show them off before executing them, but he knows this universe wouldn’t do that. Honestly, he’s at a loss. Pavel is too, walking silent and tense at his side.

 

The guards stop them in front of a pair of rooms that look just like all the others. They wave the door open on the first one and lead Hikaru and Pavel inside. It’s a nice room, not small but not large, with plush carpet and a soft bed. An open door in the wall leads into the other room, keeping them connected.

 

The door to the hallway slides open a second time, and Kirk comes in. His throat is bruised but he stands tall and proud. Fortunately, he seems calm, not filled with rage like their Kirk would be. Spock stands at his side, face impassive, and Hikaru stares at him with curiosity. A Spock that doesn’t kill is interesting indeed.

 

Kirk begins to speak, voice even:

 

“Dr. Mccoy has informed that your escape was partially motivated by the way you were being kept in sickbay. This is a legitimate complaint, one I wish I had thought of earlier, but next time just tell me instead of strangling me and trying to take over the enterprise, okay?”

 

He’s smiling, easily, as if he finds this situation entertaining. Sulu finds himself smiling back; he likes a man who can take a hit and get up afterwards. He never thought he would  _ like  _ Kirk. Respect him, yes. Fear him, yes. But never like him. But he does like this Kirk, with his even calmness and hovering crew. He’s got three of them clinging to him right now: the ever present Spock, the scowling doctor, and the hopeful looking other-chekov. 

 

Hikaru focuses on him, until the man looks up and meets his eyes, and winks at him. He blushes and ducks his head, moving further back into the crowd of redshirts. Hikaru giggles, he’s just so adorable! He’s cut off when his own Chekov slaps him, drawing his attention. The entire room tenses up, as if they expect him to murder Pavel for slapping him. Pavel smirks at him and reminds him:

 

“The captain is talking. Pay attention.”

 

He’s obviously noticed how the room is waiting for violence to break out, but he’s waiting for Hikaru to make the first move. He’s never been very good at pulling pranks, so Hikaru’s happy to help him along. He turns, squaring his shoulders in a way he knows makes him look larger, and he can hear the entire room hold their breath. Then he lunges at Pavel, an aggressive, scary looking move, but one that Pavel has know how to defeat since he was ten years old.

 

He can hear the guards cursing and fumbling as he makes contact with Pavel, probably trying to push the captain out of the room to safety. Then he’s distracted as Pavel weaves his way out of his hold, punching him lightly in the stomach, and locks his legs around his shoulders and brings him down. Before Hikaru can even hit the ground Pavel is on top of him, pinning him down. The room goes silent as Hikaru laughs, leaning up to kiss Pavel.

 

“I was worried you might have gotten rusty, babe.”

 

Pavel smirks at him and turns to look at their observers, who are staring at them with their jaws gaping open. 

 

“You really got them going, Hikaru. They really don’t know anything about me if they thought you could hurt me.”

 

Hikaru giggles, taking in the whirlwind of emotions the redshirts are going through. Messing with these alternate people is  _ hilarious. _

 

The captain shakes his head, struggling not to laugh. Both Spock and Mccoy give him disapproving looks. He recovers himself and finishes his spiel:

 

“These are your rooms.The doors are locked and guarded. You may order any food and drink you want from the replicators we’ve installed. If you want to stretch your legs, knock on the door and a guard will escort you. If you need anything more, call me with the wall communicator. Okay?”

 

He gives them an expectant look and the room falls silent. Hikaru feels his forehead wrinkle as he tries to figure out what the captain is waiting for. Pavel looks just as bewildered.

 

_ Oh. _

 

He almost laughs when he figures it out. The captain is waiting for them to reply. When their Kirk said something, it was an order and you followed it. Responding was inordinate and would be punished severely.  Just another facet of this world they have to get used to.

 

“Yes, sir.”

 

Kirk’s face does something complicated, like he can’t decide if he likes or dislikes being called sir by them. Then he gives them a nod and leads his parade out the door. The door closes with the loud click of a lock engaging, leaving them sitting in silence. Pavel relaxes, sprawling out on the floor, content to stay on the soft carpet.

 

Hikaru, however, gets up and starts prowling around the room. It’s finally sinking in that they’ve actually been given  _ rooms _ , with privacy and space to move around and real beds, even if they’re locked inside. He wants to explore every inch of them as soon as he can.

  
  


The rooms have been carefully cleared of anything sharp or heavy enough to do damage. The furniture is even bolted to the floor, sharp corners rounded off.  But beyond the declawing, the room has also been made purposefully pleasant. The comms are set to play music if they want, there’s extra blankets on the bed, and even a vase of real flowers on the table.

 

Pavel is rolling around on the floor, still entranced by the fluffy carpet, and Hikaru is messing with the replicator when the door chime sounds. They both startle at the noise and stare at the door, processing that someone is actually asking to come in. Pavel reacts first, calling out a “Come in!” that curves up at the end, making it more of a question than a command.

 

The door slides open to reveal the other-Sulu, a bright smile on his face and a small pot in his hands. He steps inside, hesitating once he’s inside the door. He looks down for a moment, eyes darting around nervously, and then speaks:

 

“I brought you guys a housewarming gift.”

 

They’re both left speechless. Hikaru stares at the tiny plant in the pot, it’s rose colored mouths gaping open. It’s a venus flytrap, rare and hard to cultivate. For Hikaru to have one, he must have grown it himself.

 

“A flytrap?”

 

Hikaru lets out a self conscious laugh.

 

“Yeah, I thought it was your guy’s kinda plant.”

 

Pavel looks stricken as he steps forwards, taking the red clay pot out of Sulu’s hands. His voice is soft, like he’s about to cry, as he speaks:

 

“Thank you, that’s so sweet...”

 

Hikaru tries to distract himself from the uncomfortable kindness his alternate is displaying by going into the other room and digging through the closet, the only part he hasn’t explored yet.

 

\-----

 

Pavel is scrambling for something to say, something to give in return for this unexpected gift when Hikaru comes bursting out of the other room, a wad of yellow and black fabric wrapped around his fist.

 

“Do you all wear this boring pants and shirt combo all the time?  I know you don’t, I saw crewmembers in skirts on our way here.”

 

Sulu looks confused, but does his best to answer the question:

 

“Um...no? There’s three possible combos for our uniforms, the pants and shirt, the skirt alone, and the skirt with pants underneath. Crewmembers can wear any combo they prefer.”

 

“Then why is there only one option in my closet?”

 

Sulu looks lost.

 

“Since you were wearing the pants and shirt when you arrived, we assumed...”

 

Hikaru huffs.

 

“That I would be boring? Can I have the other options, please?”

 

Sulu shrugs and nods, striding over to the closet and changing something on the panel next to it. With a strange whirr and a flash of light, the clothing in the closet has suddenly tripled. HIkaru runs his fingers over the different uniforms, checking they’re all there before he’s satisfied.

 

“Thank you, Sulu.”

 

Pavel finally remembers what it was that he needed to do, and fortunately, it can stand in for a gift to Sulu. He had asked them to pick new names for themselves, and they had, but they had tried to escape before they had time to tell him.

 

_ No time like the present. _

 

“Sulu? We picked names, like you asked.”

 

Sulu turns to him, an excited grin on his face.

 

“Really? That’s great! If you tell me them, I’ll make sure the crew knows to use them. It’ll make everyone less confused.”

 

Hikaru leaves the closet behind and rejoins them.

 

“My name is Saito.”

 

Sulu nods, typing it down on his datapad, then looks up at Pavel expectantly.

 

“And my name is Sergei.”

 

Sulu tucks the pad into his pants and thanks them, before leaving to give the names to the captain. They stare at each other in the silence he leaves, feeling the weight of giving up their names.

 

_ It’s not ideal, but it’s a small price to pay for our survival. _


	19. we're bored

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> you say update, I hear write some domestic fluff that has very little bearing on the plot. But next chapter we get back to the action (And I'll actually try to post it within a month lol...sorry)

\--------

They’re read every book in the library they're allowed too. No movie or show has gone unwatched. Saito has sewn himself a whole closet’s worth of clothing. Sergei has drawn enough to fill a room with paper. To put it plainly, they’re bored. 

 

In their frustration, they’ve taken to sparring in their room. They are allowed out as long as they have a guard with them, but they hate being gawked at like zoo animals. Better to take their exercise in private, where they can tackle each other without a redshirt flinching and drawing his phaser.

 

At first, they had tried to be careful and respect their space. Now, they simply roll through the room without worrying about how much damage they might do. Sergei tackles Saito across the bed, sending them slamming into the drawers. They shake the sturdy furniture, sending the padds on top showering to the ground. Saito winces as one hits him on the head, but quickly recovers and lunges at Sergei.

 

They wrestle their way across the soft carpet, kicking and scratching. They roll over to the wall, hitting it with a loud thunk. It doesn’t stop their struggle. Then, Sergei kicks out too far and hits the table leg. It breaks with an angry crack and collapses, falling painfully onto Saito. 

 

Even worse, the vase that Sulu had given them was sitting on the table. It begins to fall, water sloshing onto the carpet.  Sergei tries to catch it, but is pinned too far under Saito to reach. Sergei yells in frustration, terrified that the precious gift will break. It’s one of the few things that’s truly theirs, even if it was given to them.

 

A hand catches the vase right before it hits the ground, getting soaked in the process. The chrysanthemums inside topple out and lie limply on the floor. They look up to see Sulu leaning over them, concern on his face. They hadn’t heard the door open, he must have come in while they were distracted by getting crushed by a table. He’s the only person on the ship who is allowed to enter without asking, and it sometimes leads to embarrassing moments like this.

 

Saito puts on his most disarming smile and cheers:

 

“Hello Hikaru!”

 

Hikaru frowns at him and shakes the now empty vase like a scolding finger. A few extra droplets of water splatter Saito and Sergei, making them wipe at their faces.

 

“Are you trying to break my lucky vase again? And apparently the end table too.”

 

Saito tries to play innocent, but Sergei shrugs and admits that they weren’t being as careful as they should be. Sulu sighs and puts the vase down a safe distance away before helping extricate them from the wreckage. Saito shoves the shattered wood down the disposal chute while Sergei and Sulu mop up the water.

 

Only once the cleanup is finished and a new table ordered does Sulu show his concern again. He waits until they’ve settled down on the bed, comfortably resting in each other’s arms, to ambush them.

 

“Come on, guys. This is the third time you’ve destroyed some furniture this week. Won’t you tell me what’s wrong?”

 

Sergei groans and buries his face in Saito’s chest. He’s the more private of the two, and thus less likely to talk. Saito keeps his lips sealed, but at least he doesn’t look away from Sulu. Sulu had been willing to let it go the first couple times, owing it to the violent nature of their mirrorverse guests. But three times is a pattern, and a pattern is a reason for concern.

 

“I’ve only ever been truthful with you, and all I want is what’s best for you. I consider you friends. Isn’t that enough reason for you to tell me?”

 

Saito sighs and runs his hand down Sergei’s back to comfort himself as he considers that. He’s always had a sense of personal honor, which often got him in trouble in their old world. Most important amongst that was a form of loyalty. It had restraints, otherwise it would have gotten him killed. But it demands that, where he can, he helps those he considers friends.

 

Sergei glares at him, sensing his change of heart and not at all liking it. Saito glares back and for a moment they battle wordlessly. Finally, Sergei gives in. He huffs and buries his face in the bed, refusing to participate in the conversation that’s about to start. Saito lets him retreat and turns back to Sulu.

 

“We’re bored. We want out.”

 

Sulu looks confused.

 

“You can go out.”

 

Saito scoffs.

 

“Yeah, with two armed guards who’ll shoot us if we move too fast. That’s a mighty short leash and you know it.”

 

Sulu crosses his arms and settles in for an argument. He’s found verbal sparring with his alternate to be immensely entertaining.

 

“Last time you were free you tried to kill the captain and take over the ship.”

 

Saito shrugs, tries to wheedle his way out.

 

“But we didn’t understand this world then! And we’ve been on our best behavior ever since, haven’t we?”

 

Sulu sighs. Other than breaking some furniture, they have been perfect prisoners.

 

“Alright, I’m not going to let you wander about unattended because that would be stupid and irresponsible. But how about a compromise? No guards, just me as your supervision.”

 

Sergei pops up, looking at Sulu with wide, shocked eyes that make him look his young age.

 

“Really?”

 

Sulu smiles, waves an inviting hand at the door.

 

“Really.”

 

Sergei is up in a flash, Saito at his side. He catches Sulu’s arm and tugs at it, pulling him up onto his feet.

 

“Let’s go right now!”

 

Sulu chuckles and frees his hand.

 

“Okay, okay. Calm down a bit and we can go out.”

 

Sergei jumps from foot to foot like an excited child, but with his signature deadly grace flowing through the movement. He takes a moment to calm himself before heading towards the door. As Sulu follows them out into the corridor, the guards posted at the door prepare to tail them. Sulu waves them off with a quick explanation. They don’t look happy about it, but they obey.

 

Saito and Sergei wander down the hall, looking at it with such awe it could be an alien planet. But this is the first time they get to stop and look at the details without being prodded by a guard. They take in the brightly clad crewmembers passing them by, noting all the unique alien species. Saito clicks his tongue disapprovingly at the uniforms. 

 

“It really just doesn’t work without the sashes.”

 

He’s sewn custom sashes onto all of his clothing, careful to avoid gold so that they don’t look too imperial and make their hosts uncomfortable. Sergei smirks at him and hurries him away, eager to get to more interesting parts of the ship.

 

“Let’s go to the greenhouse!”

 

They start to rush towards the turbolift, but are quickly pulled to a stop by Sulu.

 

“Hey, hey. Let’s work of some of you energy in the gym first. I don’t want any plants getting crushed when you decide to go crashing through them.”

 

They make pitiful faces at him, but he tugs them the opposite direction relentlessly. They give in after a good-natured struggle and follow him to the gym. As soon as they’re inside they make a beeline for the wrestling mats, ignoring the crewman gawking at them. Sulu watches them grapple across floor with a fond smile on his face.

\--------


	20. The Rubian

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I promised an update this weekend and I've managed a short chapter. It's really just set up for the next main plot point, which will happen next chapter. Sorry to leave you hanging, but I'll have the next chapter up soon!
> 
> For all of you who are still reading, thank you so much for sticking with me!

\---------

 

A golden twinkle appears in the transporter pad, quickly coalescing into the captain’s form. Kirk curses as soon as he’s materialized on the transporter pad. He checks the pulse of the unconscious transporter technician slumped over the console before rushing to the communicator next to the doorway. He hits the button and snarls his orders:

 

“Security, Intruder alert! One of the Rubians is on board. It’s aggressive and dangerous, set phasers to stun!”

 

\---------

 

Rubians are large aliens with a few too many legs for bipedal humanoids to be comfortable with and wet, toad like skin. Unfortunately, their flabby skin hides an impressive array of muscles that makes them effective predators. Humans aren’t their usual prey, but they’ll hunt them nonetheless. Once introduced to spaceflight, they’d quickly taken to the stars and become an effective force of bounty hunters.

 

This particular Rubian is named C-jal, and it was happily piloting it’s ship after a wanted klingon traitor when the enterprise interfered. Its crew were easily captured, but it is much more wiley than the thugs it employs. It had hijacked a transporter signal and beamed aboard the enterprise. It took out the transporter technician easily and disappeared into the bustling hallways of the ship before Kirk could materialize and catch a glimpse of which direction it went.

 

Now it’s sulking down a brightly lit hallway, trying to avoid being spotted. Knocking out or killing crew members who detect it is easy, but it leaves a trail for Kirk to track. Its slitted eyes scan the hallway with a predator ease and its strong, webbed fingers are clenched into powerful fists. Despite the strange gait that is a product of having six legs, it moves near silently.

 

All in all, it’s not an alien you want roaming free on your starship. 

 

Security parties are beginning to comb the levels, but they haven’t reached this one yet. Even once they locate the Rubian, it’ll be a long battle before they can capture it. The Enterprise crew is preparing themselves for a long, stressful afternoon. Hopefully, the Rubian is captured before the body count rises too high. The Rubian is thinking quite the opposite; it’s enjoying the thrill of the oncoming hunt and hopes to take down many of its enemies before it is defeated. 

 

It knows it will have more of an advantage if it can force the security guards into a bottleneck, where it can take them out one at a time. It needs to find a room where it can put its back to a wall, rather than stay in these open hallways. It tries at least five doors, all branching out into more hallways, before it finally finds one that ends in a room.

 

The door opens into a large room that is very different than the others its been in. The floor is padded, and although the room is large and open, it’s filled with metal contraptions that will make convenient hiding places. There are only three people in the room, and none have of them have noticed it enter, fortunately. 

 

Two of the people are mock fighting on the padded floor, and the outfits they wear lack a starfleet insignia. They also have bright sashes wrapped around their waists, in a style that starfleet wouldn’t allow. They could perhaps be visitors, but the posture of the third human suggests that he is a guard. He stands watching the two fighting, relaxed, but with his phaser prominently displayed on his hip.

 

The Rubian creeps forwards, carefully placing itself in the ideal ambush position, and then pounces. It hits the guard human in the back of the head and he collapses to the ground with a cut off yell. Satisfied that the main threat is unconscious, the Rubian turns to the two prisoners. They've stopped their play fighting, and their mock aggression has turned to real aggression.

 

They begin to circle, using their two to its one to their advantage. If C-jal lets them flank it, they can attack it from both sides. With starfleet officers it wouldn’t be concerned, but these two move a deadly grace that hints at more thorough training than the average redshirt. Judging by their murderous glares, they also lack starfleet’s naive morals.

 

Despite C-jal’s bloodthirst, it sees an opportunity. It spreads it’s limbs and relaxes it’s muscles, looking as non threatening as possible. The pair tense like they want to leap on it now that it’s unprepared, but it extends an arm in a “stop” motion. Reluctantly, they pause. It grins and growls:

 

“I see we’re in the same boat, stuck on this miserable starship. Help me, and I’ll free you.”

 

The two prisoners share a long look, seeming to discuss its proposition without speaking. The larger one nods at the smaller one and then they turn back to it, grin wickedly. It grins back, satisfied with itself. It may have just gained some much needed allies.

 

\--------

**Author's Note:**

> this first chapter is pretty boring but next chapter we get to learn more about mirror chekov and the universe he came from.


End file.
